


Getaway Car

by operatorrhythmi



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers, Alcohol, Eating Disorders, F/F, Sexual Assault, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, and diantha is living in the hell that is hollywood, cynthia's got that Seasonal Affective Disorder, there's some heavy content but i SWEAR it's going to have a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2019-10-01 22:29:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 79,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17252570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/operatorrhythmi/pseuds/operatorrhythmi
Summary: Despite not being an actress, Cynthia ends up agreeing to star in an episode of a series called Red Dawn, as Elizabeth Park, the getaway driver and eventual love interest to Scarlet, Kiss of Death.  The lead role is held by Diantha, who is well into her career as a movie star.As the months go by for filming, tensions rise as the two have to learn to work together.  It isn't long until the lines begin to blur on whether or not it's their character feeling or their own that follow them off set.





	1. Prologue

 

In Which Nothing Good Starts In A Getaway Car

 

 

            The stillness of the room was broken by the sound of Cynthia’s office phone.  Amidst a spread of papers and other office supplies, the ancient landline rang, soon accompanied by a groan from the Sinnoh champion.  The plus one on the screen told her it was from Unova, and she wasn’t about to entertain that phone call again. 

            For the past two months, three to four times a week, a casting director from Unova would call her, and spend an obscene amount of time trying to convince her to sign on to some tv series.  She had the number blocked on her cell phone, but she had yet to find a way to block them from calling her league extension. 

            She was sure by now they would have gotten the message.  Yet no matter how many times she answered no, they still insisted, and asked her to “think it over”.  Lots of incentives were given to her to try to get a yes.  Private transportation, expensive lodging, better pay. 

            Despite how slow the league was during the winter months, none of it was incentive enough to drag her from Sinnoh for two to three months in the spring.  Besides, she wasn’t even an actress.  She hadn’t acted a day in her life, yet despite that, the casting director wouldn’t let it go. 

            The phone eventually went silent, and she hit mute the second it started playing the message the man was leaving. 

            Cynthia looked at the clock on her desktop.  She had been in long enough.  League matters were as organized as they were going to be, though, the same couldn’t be said for her office.  As always, she opted to ignore the mess of her office.  There was a rhythm in the mess that made sense to at least her, so it was a problem for another day. 

            Just as she stood to remove her coat from the back of her chair, a knock at her door distracted her.  The rhythm of the knock told her it was the league manager, Amanda. 

            “Come in,” She said, keeping her back to the door as she shrugged on her jacket. 

            “Cynthia…how do you live like this?”  The middle-aged woman asked, now staring her down.  Though, Cynthia realized that thinking of her as middle-aged might have been a tad unfair.  She was only ten years her senior at thirty-seven.

            She was a pleasant enough woman to work with.  She managed the affairs of all the elite four and champion, and often worked with the managers who oversaw the gym leaders.  Though, she wasn’t exactly textbook professional.  She tended to speak her mind far more often than any of the old managers did. 

            It was something Cynthia at least appreciated. 

            “Look, I don’t come in your house and tell you how to live your life,” she joked, finally facing the shorter woman.  Though, in comparison to Cynthia, it wasn’t a hard thing to be. 

            “Dude, this is worse than normal.”

            She didn’t want to talk about her messy habits.  “Why are you here, Mandy?”  She was one of few in the league who would use her nickname, and the only one who never was scolded for doing so. 

            She surveyed the messy, dark room another few seconds before refocusing her attention on Cynthia.  “Got a call from Mason Bragg.  Wants me to talk to you about that movie thing.”

            Sitting back in her chair, she pushed herself back until the chair hit the wall, groaning.  “They’re bugging _you_ now?” 

            She shrugged, wiping her brunette bangs away from her eyes.  “I mean, I am your manager, so this is at least part of my job.”

            Cynthia rested her head on her palm.  “I’m not going to say yes.  I’m not an actress!  Why are they so dead-set on me?”

            She shrugged, working her way to Cynthia’s desk.  She laughed to herself at the paper covered desk.  “I’m gonna sit here,” she said, taking a seat on her desk, something none of her other managers from the past ten years would have ever done. 

            “That’s important research,” Cynthia said, turning in her chair to better face her. 

            She laughed again, crossing her legs.  “If it’s that important, it’s already on your computer.  You don’t leave things on paper for too long.” 

            She couldn’t refute it.  “Okay, true, but look, you can’t convince me to agree to this nonsense.  I’m not an actress, I’ve never been an actress, and I’ll never be an actress.” 

            “Have you never wanted to be an actress?  Just out of curiosity,” She asked. 

            She rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, for like…a week when I was a kid, probably.”

            Amanda leaned back on her hands.  “Entertain that part of you, then.  They’re gonna keep pestering both of us, and you know it.”

            “They told me they wanted me in Unova by the middle of March.  It’s— “she paused to look at the paper calendar on the wall “—The eighth of January.  They’re going to have to move on here soon enough.”

            She shrugged, keeping her brown eyes on Cynthia.  “They might, but do you really want to find out?” 

            “Are you seriously about to try to convince me to do this?”  She asked, pulling herself into a more proper seated position. 

            Amanda leaned forward off her hands.  “Look, to be completely honest with you, I think that if you want them off your back, you’re just gonna have to waste their time.”

            “Waste their time?”  She repeated. 

            “Yeah.  Say yes.  Go through the motions, do whatever.  Go over there, show them you’re not an actress and that they made a mistake, and then they’ll send you home and never bother you again.  It’s practically foolproof.” 

            While Cynthia understood where she was coming from, it still seemed completely unnecessary.  Besides, it was setting up a bad tone for the whole filming process.  If they were this incessant and refused to take a no, how much worse could it be in person?

            “Mandy…” she grumbled. 

            “Waste their time, babe.”  Another part of her informality.  “You can consider it petty revenge for them wasting so much of your time.  Besides, it’s not like this place is going to liven up until then.  You and I both know that you won’t see a challenger until…. May at the absolute earliest,” she continued. 

            That wasn’t entirely true.  In her ten years she had a February challenger now and then, and there had been a few years where she did exhibition matches when asked.  When she brought all of it up, Amanda just laughed. 

            “All I’m hearing is excuses,” she said.  

            She sighed, and in the motion, so did her whole body.  Every bone, every muscle sighed in defeat.  “You’re not going to give this up, are you?”  She asked. 

            A smile worked its way on her face, something akin to a satisfied Purrloin.  “I want them to stop bugging me, too.  I’ve got Aaron’s winter antics to manage.” 

            She couldn’t resist laughing at that.  His winter antics were nothing more than getting a few different injuries while ice skating, or doing some other winter activity that he wasn’t skilled enough at.  Nevertheless, Amanda was always on top of making sure he didn’t injure himself too bad.  He was first in line to be challenged in the league, after all. 

            Amanda continued talking.  “I have a newer draft of the script if you want to see it.  I also know who your costar is.”  She said it in a way that left Cynthia intrigued. 

            “Who?”

            “So, you haven’t seen this series, right?” 

            She shook her head.  “Red Dawn?  No.  Can’t say I’ve even heard much about it.”

            She nodded.  “It’s not that popular over here.  Its’s a Hupa series, but okay!  So, you actually know her!  Diantha.”

            She paused for a second.  While not knowing any other person with the name, she still asked, “Kalos Champion?”

            Amanda nodded a yes.  “Madame Ruston herself,” she said, imitating a Kalosian accent.  Badly. 

            “I don’t even think you tried to roll that R,” she joked, crossing her legs. 

            Amanda rolled her eyes in turn.  “Anyways, at least you would be working with another champion.  It’s not like you’re going into something completely blind.”

            “Yes, but if I make a fool of myself, I’ve made a fool of myself in front of another champion,” she pointed out. 

            Amanda took her thick framed glasses off her face, wiping the lenses on her shirt. 

            Cynthia watched her bring them back up to inspect them against the light, wiping them a few more times before getting frustrated. 

            “You wearing anything cotton?  This just isn’t the material,” she complained. 

            Cynthia held out her hand, taking the glasses.  “You sure I’m not your manager?  I feel like this is something stuck up celebrities would have done for them,” she asked as she wiped the lenses on the interior of her coat.           

            For a split second, she wondered if Diantha was a stuck-up celebrity and had people for situations like this.  She hoped not, otherwise it might tarnish the way she looked at her as another champion. 

            She shrugged.  “I’m just seeing how far I can take this.  Managing you hooligans has got to have some perks,” she teased. 

            Cynthia laughed, handing her glasses back.  “You act like we’re the hardest league to manage.” 

            She put them on, blinking a few times at Cynthia.  “There’s still a smudge- “

            “Get off my desk,” she said, not letting her manager finish. 

            She hopped off, laughing to herself, but not before nearly tripping over a stack of papers on the ground. 

            “I would love it if you would clean this place before you leave.” 

            She would like that too, but finding the motivation to do so was a whole different challenge.  “You call them back and tell them yes for me, and consider it done.”  Hopefully she was right, and that by proving she wasn’t an actress on any level, they would quickly send her home, and this would all be nothing more than a dumb memory. 

            She smiled at her, something more genuine this time.  “That a promise?”

            “Promise.”

            She gave a curt nod, about to head back out the door for good this time.  Stopping in the doorway, she put her hand on the frame.  “How much of the script do you know?”  She asked suddenly. 

            Cynthia thought it over for a few seconds.  “I know my costar is Diantha.  That’s about it.  I’ve been ignoring their calls for the past two weeks, so no clue what else they wanted to entice me with.” Surly there wasn’t anything in the script that they could use as incentive. 

            The grin on her face as she turned around left a growing dread in Cynthia’s stomach. 

            “Hope you’re ready for a bunch of kisses you big, dumb blonde,” She teased, breaking out into a laugh. 

            Her heart sank at that.  “Hold— “

            “Nope!”  She was out the door.  “You already said yes!  And promised to clean your office!”  Just before she was completely out of ear shot —How fast was she even running?— Cynthia heard a faint “Should have taken those calls!”

            With a deep breath, she rested her head on her desk, the dread only growing stronger.  She hadn’t wanted any of this.  She didn’t want to leave the comfort of her region.  She didn’t want to spend a spring in Unova.  She didn’t want to try to be an actress for even a moment.  There was only room for one champion to be an actress, and that role was already held by Diantha. 

            “They better realize I’m not an actress and send me the fuck home,” she grumbled. 

 

 

            Unfortunately for Cynthia, during her contract meeting, she inadvertently agreed to having a personal trainer sent to her a month before she would leave for Unova.  Five days out of the week would be spent working with them and getting her up to speed and ready for filming. 

            As Amanda had pointed out, the league wouldn’t pick up until May, so there was nothing she could use as an excuse to get out of it. 

            If it was even possible, the dread in her stomach had turned into full-blown despair. 

 

 

 

            The sun’s rays were warm in the sunroom, even with it being a chilly mid-January afternoon.  Lumiose City was covered in a light layer of snow, and despite the warmth of the sun, it still wouldn’t be enough to melt the snow. 

            “So, I’ve gotten word of who your costar will be in the Getaway Car project.”

            Diantha looked up from the view of the city to her manager who had walked into the room.  She held her large black tablet in her hands, scrolling through something. 

            It was a wonder she never bumped into anything with how glued her vision was to the device. 

            “Who might that be?”  Diantha asked, sitting up more properly.  She had been wondering who would fill the role of Elizabeth for a while now.  Ever since she had been offered the chance to re-star as Scarlet and received one of the first drafts of the script, curiosity was getting the better of her. 

            Especially since word on the street was they had one person in mind that was being stubborn about saying yes. 

            “I think you’ll be surprised,” she said, taking a seat next to her on the white couch. 

            “I’m enjoying your attempt at suspense, but I doubt there’s a single name you could drop that would honestly surprise me.”  The description of Elizabeth from the script left at least a few Unovan actresses in mind. 

            Kathi Lee looked at her, her pale brown eyes seeming to challenge her words.  “Cynthia Jenness,” she said simply. 

            Her manager hadn’t lied.  She _was_ surprised to hear the name.  Unless there was another Cynthia Jenness she wasn’t aware of that she should have been.  “As in…Sinnoh’s champion?  That Cynthia?”

            “The very one,” She said, returning her attention back to her tablet. 

            The very notion confused Diantha.  She tried to think of any interactions she had with the other champion to see if she could recall any interest in acting from her end.  However, the more she thought about every meeting since Kalos joined the league officially, she realized she never once had a full conversation with her.  She couldn’t even recall if she ever got to go past an introduction.  

            “She’s…not an actress?  Right?”  If she was, she was going to feel embarrassed for missing such a key detail.  And an important bit of common ground for them to have talked about.  Other than that, the only thing she knew they had in common was being women champions, but they also now shared that with Iris.    

            Kathi Lee sat her tablet on her lap, typing something in a memo.  “You’re not wrong.” 

            Now Diantha was even more confused.  “My costar is a rookie?”  If she could even be considered as such. 

            Was there a step below rookie?

            “Not just your costar.  Your new love interest from what I’ve gathered in the newest version of the script.”  She stopped typing, looking up at Diantha.  Her voice was as monotone as ever.  “Kissing a rookie could be bad for your reputation.  I can see about pulling you from this if you want.” 

            For a moment, she considered it. 

While it wasn’t necessarily the idea of working with someone so new that was putting her off —though it was a good part of it— it was the worry that the director had lost his absolute mind.  She remembered him being a pain to deal with, but nothing like this.

            However, it would at least provide an opportunity to finally work with Cynthia.  “Send me the script.” 

            She nodded in response, moving to her mail app to send a copy of the script to her.  In a moment or so Diantha’s phone got the notification. 

            She spent a few minutes in silence with Kathi Lee, looking over the script.  A lot had been changed since the first draft she was sent back in November.  The warmth in the sunroom suddenly seemed to get even more intense. 

            Forcing down all feelings on the matter, she put her phone down and shrugged.  If the content of the script were enough to make her a little anxious, surly Cynthia would drop within the first week of filming.  “Honestly, Kathi Lee, I have a feeling Tom will come to his senses and recast her once they see she’s not an actress.” 

            Kathi Lee had long returned to her tablet while Diantha had been contemplating everything.  “I can’t remember, do you and Cynthia not get along?”  She asked.  A few of her taps were accented by her nails.  A distinct sound that now filled the sunroom. 

            She shook her head in response.  “I wouldn’t say that.  We’ve talked a few times during the international meetings.  We were even supposed to have a battle last year, but you pulled me into some interview nonsense instead.”

            “My bad.”  Though, anyone other than Diantha might have thought her tone indicated that she didn’t feel any remorse towards it. 

            “No, no, I’m not blaming you.  It was the groups fault for it being such a subpar interview.”  All the questions could have been answered in an email, and she didn’t like taking time out of her day for such trivial things.  It at least hadn’t been worth missing a battle with Cynthia for.  “I respect Cynthia as a champion, but…I can’t say I understand why the director is having her fill this role.  I mean, sure, she’s stunning to look at, but…” She trailed off, thinking on the description of Elizabeth from the script. 

            Suddenly, the casting of Cynthia in the role made perfect sense. 

            The more she thought on it, the more she realized they had made the fatal error of creating a character with only one person in mind.  Now they were running the risk of never getting rid of her because she wasn’t just a good fit.  She _was_ the fit. 

            Filming still didn’t start for a while, but she could already feel it becoming quite the process…

 

 

— — — —

 

FADE IN:

SEPIA OVERLAY

EXT. DEEP IN UNOVA’S DESERT.  HIGHWAY - DAY

In the heart of the desert, the sand blows across the barren landscape, covering the road in a light dusting. 

 

MOVE TO:

EXT. CENTER OF HIGHWAY - DAY

Two cars race down the highway.  One an old, beat up, black getaway car.  The other, a police car, sirens BLARING.

Intro text comes across the screen as the cars zip by, racing down the highway. 

GETAWAY CAR flashes on the screen and fades out before introducing part of our main cast. 

SCARLET, classic Unovan beauty, on the taller side, lean build, late 20’s, wearing her signature lipstick that breaks the sepia tone of the shot, leans out of the window.  Her hair now blowing all over the place. 

Color bleeds into proper scope. 

 

SCARLET laughs, but in the car it’s a different story. 

INT. CAR

SCARLET  
Can’t you move any faster? 

WILLIAM, driver, every bit of the cliché of tall, dark, and handsome, mid 30s, visibly sweating as he looks in the rearview mirror. 

WILLIAM  
We’re going as fast as we can, damnit! 

CHARLES, slender build, strong chin, constantly a grungy mess, 30s, looks Scarlet in the eyes.

CHARLES  
We need cover. 

Both nod, two poké balls now in hand. 

CHARLES releases BRAXIEN.  SCARLET releases her signature KIRLIA. 

EXT. CAR

BRAIXEN leans out to deliver a strong FLAMETHROWER.  KIRLIA does the same but with SHADOW BALL. 

Police Car is blown off the road, allowing them to escape. 

The getaway car swerves on the road before going straight, pushing the old car to its absolute limit. 

In the distance, a small town in the desert comes into view.  For now, they’re safe, setting the stage for GETAWAY CAR. 

— — — —

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy!
> 
> I'm super excited to get started on this story!!  
> I should mention that this story is directly influenced by the song Getaway Car by Taylor Swift. If you haven't listened to the song, i HIGHLY encourage that you do!! [shoot the whole reputation album really but GC and Gorgeous are the ones i'm mainly referencing here lmao]  
> It's also important to me that you know ahead of time that she 100% exists in this canon, so take that as you will.
> 
> Plenty of other familiar faces will appear in this fic, but I figured I wouldn't tag them and clog their tags if they only appear for a few chapters at a time.
> 
> As a forewarning, I want you to know that this story will eventually include some heavy topics such as depression, sexual harassment, unhealthy relationships (tho not for the main pairing), mentions of eating disorders, and other toxic things that come with hollywood. I promise to you that I will leave warnings in the previous chapter, as well as at the beginning of chapters that begin to tackle those things.  
> I also want to preface this with: I Am Not A Licensed Psychologist. I am just someone who has dealt with these things in their personal life. If you think you need help in any way, please reach out to someone who can help you.
> 
> https://www.thetrevorproject.org/
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways, this story means a lot to me, and I cannot wait to begin to share it with you if you choose to go with me on this journey!
> 
> Thank you for your continued support my dear readers~
> 
> Tori


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cynthia has a misunderstanding.

 

            With it being six weeks out from her decided travel date, Cynthia sat in Amanda’s office, leaned back into the cushion of the grey chair.  Of all the offices at the league, the chairs in her office were always the most comfortable.

            Cynthia casually looked over her hand, making a mental note to trim her nails.  “You know, I would love a layover in Hoenn,” she said. 

            Amanda stopped her typing, looking up at Cynthia over her glasses.  “I can get you a direct flight from Sunyshore to Castelia.  That’s no problem,” she pointed out.

            She shook her head.  “I’d prefer a layover.  Mossdeep if you can, but I’ll settle for Lilycove since I know it’s usually easier to get into there.”  She just barely caught the small eyeroll from her manager. 

            “How long of a layover?”  She returned her attention to the screen in front of her. 

            “At least six hours.  If I’m going to spend a few months fucking around because some man can’t take no for an answer, I want to have some genuine fun before then.” 

            She then watched as Amanda moved over to give her full attention to her.  She gave her a quick look over.  “You’re in a better mood about all of this,” she observed. 

            Cynthia shrugged.  “The weather has been nice, and I’m just trying to ride this feeling as long as possible.”  It was the truth, anyways.  It was in the upper-thirties and had finally stopped snowing for the first time in months.  The weather having an effect on her mood wasn’t something Cynthia was entirely unaware of.    

            Amanda looked as though she were going to say something, but stopped herself short with a quick laugh.  “Never mind.”  She returned to her computer. 

            “Go ahead and say it.  You know I don’t care.”  Though, it wasn’t exactly a lack of caring.  It was just a desire to see if she could get to the bottom of why Amanda seemed so sore about the subject. 

            She shrugged, not meeting Cynthia’s eyes.  “I was going to make a really bad vitamin D joke, but then I thought better of it because as your manager I’m probably not supposed to say things like that.”  To which Cynthia laughed. 

            “How many times do I have to assure you and the media that there’s nothing physical between me and Steven?  We’re really good friends; that's it.”  While Sinnoh wasn’t typically a region enthralled by gossip, being the champion of ten years left her in what little spotlight there was in the region. 

            The number one rumor that surrounded her was that she and Hoenn’s champion, Steven Stone, were secret lovers. 

            While the rumor was completely untrue, it wasn’t as though it was unfounded.  The two had long decided against being upset with the rumor, instead choosing to exacerbate it as often as possible. 

            If you can’t beat them, join them. 

            Amanda laughed lightly.  “You can assure me all you want, but until you two quit the whole hooking your arms through one another’s and spending every opportunity together, I’m not convinced.” 

            She shrugged, adjusting herself in her seat.  “Look, I have to get my kicks where I can.” 

            Things were quiet for a few moments before Amanda spoke.  “The best I can do is a twelve hour layover.  You really wanna spend that much time in Hoenn?  Just so you can fuck around with Steven?”

            She smiled, innocently.  “We didn’t get to hang out much during the last international meeting, and with him working on setting up Wallace as the next Hoenn champion, I want to get as much time with him as possible.”  Again, it was the truth.

            She shook her head, grumbling incoherently to herself. 

            While Cynthia had wanted to figure out her soreness of the subject, all she could come up with was it was more work for Amanda to do should any rumors get out of hand.  Though, she could easily hand it all off to the league’s publicist if she didn’t want to do it that badly. 

            “So, you’ll leave here Thursday, the twenty-second of March at four in the afternoon, and get into Mossdeep around six, Hoenn time.  From there, you’ll leave at six thirty in the morning, getting into Castelia around twelve thirty in the afternoon, local time.”

            “Sounds good,” Cynthia replied. 

            “Now, filming is scheduled to end on the twenty-second of June, a Friday.  What day would you prefer to come home?” she asked. 

            She pulled out her phone, scrolling on the calendar to June.  “How about that Monday?  And that can be direct to Sunyshore.  Doubt I’m going to be in the mood to look at anyone after all of this.” 

            She nodded.  “You gonna take any challenges that week?”

            She shook her head.  “Not if I can help it.  If I have to, I’ll deal with it then.”  But stars above did she hope she wouldn't have to. 

            Amanda resumed her work on the computer.  “Now, there is a chance that you’ll be finished with filming sooner,” she reminded.  “If that's the case, just let me know and I’ll do what I can to switch your ticket around.  Though, can’t guarantee business class if I have to switch things around.”

            She laughed to herself.  “If it means losing business class, I might as well just keep my mouth shut and take a small vacation.”  She was only half joking. 

            “Okay,” Amanda said, one last click on her mouse.  “You’ll be leaving out of Castelia around eight in the morning, and get in to Sunyshore around seven thirty that night.”

            She grimaced.  “Gross.”  A six hour flight wasn’t the longest she had ever been on a plane, and with it being business class, it was going to hardly be a burden.  It was more of thinking about the five hour time difference that was going to leave her jetlagged for days that was upsetting her. 

            She laughed through her nose.  “Says the woman who is willing to go completely out of the way just to have a layover in Hoenn.” 

            Before she could reason that it at least broke the day up, her phone buzzed in her hand.  She had an hour before she had to be back in Sunyshore for her first lesson with her acting coach.  She couldn't suppress her groan.  

            Amanda shooed her with her hand, the bracelet on her wrist jingling.  “Go on, you have to go meet up with Beatrice,” she said, putting an emphasis on her name.  “Also, make sure to let me know if she’s just as obnoxious as I think someone with the name Beatrice is.”

            It at least got a small laugh from Cynthia. 

            From what little precursory research she did on the woman, at worst Beatrice was regarded as “not putting up with anybody’s bullshit”.  Which Cynthia realized was probably for the best given the situation.  Working with someone who wouldn't take any of her excuses, while a pain, was what she needed to get ready for filming. 

            “I’ll be sure to do that,” she said, standing up and taking her jacket off the back of the chair. 

            “I’m going to forward this email to you, which has your confirmation number, and make sure you have the airline’s app to get any updates on the flight.  I doubt much will change time-wise, but I wouldn’t put it past them to change departure gates about twelve different times…”

 

 

            Weeks later, winter was slowly but surely giving way to spring.  The days were now longer than the nights, and snow fell more infrequently.  The daytime temperatures were now peaking around the mid thirties.  In another few weeks, the snow would be gone completely, and the spring flowers would start to bloom in force. 

            None of which Cynthia was going to get to see if things went accordingly.  By the time she had returned, the first day of summer would have already passed. 

            In the small meeting room at the league, Cynthia brought her speech to a close, keeping her seat at the head of the desk.  The entire elite four, along with Amanda, were the only ones in attendance.  The gym leaders had all received letters at the beginning of the month explaining her absence, and now with her elite four properly briefed, there was nothing more for her to do other than to pack. 

            Lucian was the first to speak.  “Rest assured, Cynthia.  Nobody will get past me while you’re gone.”

            She nodded.  She reasoned she had nothing to worry about.  Lucian didn’t sit at the head of her league for nothing.  None of them would be a part of her elite four if they didn’t keep her on her toes in a battle, but he sat at the top because he was the only one who averaged at taking down half her team. 

            Still, a part of her wasn’t fully comforted.  “I trust you, but with spring and summer being our busiest months, it still feels wrong to leave.” 

            Bertha gave her a warm smile.  “You’ll be back before the summer rush.  Try to enjoy yourself.  It’s a completely new experience.  Don’t let it pass you by.” 

            Aaron leaned forward, spinning his keyring around his finger.  “Just remember: at any point you can always just start acting like a huge dumbass and still get sent home!” 

            Amanda and Flint both noticeably laughed, much to Cynthia’s dismay. 

            Back in January, she couldn’t have imagined her feelings on the matter possibly changing.  She had been angry and upset over the whole ordeal, not understanding why she even agreed to it. 

            Every day leading up to her contract meeting, she would be seconds away from calling Amanda and telling her she had changed her mind and to forget about the whole thing.  A few times she even did make that call. 

            Amanda always had a way of talking her out of it. 

            If it hadn’t been for how much she liked her as a manager otherwise, it might have been grounds for her to consider firing her. 

            However, somewhere along the way, with the combination of the warming weather, and the challenge that was her crash course in acting, there was a small part of her that was actually looking forward to everything. 

            Her first lesson with Beatrice, she had been asked about why she liked research so much, especially considering how dry of a subject it could be.  She had answered that she liked the process of going from something disorganized on paper, to something concise. 

            It had apparently been the best possible answer she could have given Beatrice, as she immediately encouraged her to try to think of acting in the same way.  She told her that filming was rarely ever done in order of how it would appear on screen, so it would go from disorganized chaos of countless takes, to an hour and half episode. 

            Beatrice had also made a few snide remarks about the director and how the producers were in his pocket, but she decided that she wasn’t interested in those politics.  At the very least, she had a task that she now had to complete.  For better or worse, she was in this, and even if the filming ended in disaster, at least it was something she could throw on her resume. 

            Well, she at least hoped she could continue to convince herself of it. 

            There was always the gnawing, dark, fear in the back of her mind that if everything ended in disaster, she would return to Sinnoh as a failure, and then nobody would take her seriously ever again.  Which lead to thoughts of then getting thrown out of the league in one way or another, and thoughts of losing research grants because who would take such an obvious failure seriously ever again?  Worst of all it would have been done in the presence of another champion, and so then Kalos would never take Sinnoh seriously, and then the rest of the leagues would never take Sinnoh seriously, and it would eventually lead to Sinnoh being taken out of the league alliance. 

            All because she failed at acting. 

            If catastrophizing was a sport, she would be an Olympic gold medalist by now. 

            “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” She said, figuring it best to keep it at a minimum. 

            “Also,” Flint cut in.  “You gotta let me know if Diantha is as big of a drama queen as Malva likes to make her out to be.”  He ended with a laugh, but Cynthia didn’t feel as amused. 

            She had never said anything more than a formal greeting to Malva, so there was no telling how much truth there would be to it. 

            Behind her, Cynthia heard Amanda’s phone go off, followed by her footsteps exiting the room. 

            She returned to the primary conversation she was supposed to be having, allowing for any questions to be asked. 

Everything was easy enough to answer.  Mostly just clarifications and things she had forgotten to bring up during her main speech. 

            The door opened, Amanda stepping half-in, with her phone pressed against her collar.  “Hey, Cynthia.”  She barely waited for her attention to continue.  “Permission for Diantha’s manager to pass your info onto her?” 

            She swiveled back around in her chair to face the table again.  “Go for it,” She said. 

            Amanda’s voice trailed off again.  “As you can see, we do things very formally around here…”

            Aaron immediately looked to Cynthia.  “Oh!  Getting a celebrity’s number!”

            Cynthia forced an amused laugh.  “I’m pretty sure I technically already have access to that with her being a champion as well.”  Though, she certainly didn’t have it, because that required effort on her part to obtain, and it never seemed necessary enough. 

            It took about another hour to wrap up the meeting, but by the end of it, Cynthia was at least satisfied with where she would be leaving her league.  Measures were in place should Lucian be defeated, and all questioned had been answered.  With any luck, however, there wouldn’t be a single challenger that would even make it as far as Lucian, and she would be back before things got too busy in the summer. 

            Grabbing the jacket off the back of her chair, Cynthia threw it on, walking into the hallway with everyone.  She made sure to give an individual goodbye to everyone, before they left. 

            From the end of the hall, Amanda stood there, still on the phone.  She put a hand out to Cynthia, pointing at her. 

            She walked over, having already planned on doing so. 

            “Right,” She said, still talking to –Cynthia assumed– Diantha’s manager.  “I’ll be sure to do that…You take care as well.” She made sure hit the end button, and lock her phone before putting it away in her pocket.  “Oh, dear Arceus,” she grumbled. 

            Cynthia gave her an amused look.  “I take it her manager is every bit as charming as you are?”

            She shook her head, turning her body to face out the window, Cynthia moving to stand beside her. 

            The window overlooked the lake that fed the waterfall, which had already thawed.  While she wasn’t going to see any of the spring flowers, she had at least witnessed break-up of the ice, and that was something. 

            “I don’t say this as a way of discrediting her or anything.  What I know of Kathi Lee, she’s a brilliant woman, and I know Diantha pays her well.”  She paused for a second, as if to contemplate her reflection.  She turned to Cynthia.  “But she somehow has a voice that is both nasally and monotone, and it drives me absolutely insane because I can’t tell if she is mad?  Or happy? Or if she thinks I’m a blithering idiot?” 

            It got a laugh from Cynthia. 

            “But, anyways, Diantha should be contacting you here soon.  She wants to set up a lunch date with you before filming, so you should probably pack something nice to wear in case your luggage gets lost.”

            With her packing three months worth of clothing, she prayed a lost suitcase was not something she would have to worry about. 

            “Alright,” she said.  Thinking it over, it left her with some anxiety towards it.  On one hand, she could learn that Diantha was an absolute diva like Flint had heard, which would definitely make the experience as a whole miserable.  On the other, she could be just as fine as she was to work with during international meetings, and would allow her to get to know her better than her current surface level. 

            While Beatrice had given her more than enough acting advice, maybe Diantha would have different advice that could help her as well.   

            Catching herself wanting to think only on the negative, she reminded herself to think about what could go right, instead of immediately what could go wrong. 

            “Hey, so I want to be real with you.  I do have a reason for wanting you to go through with this other than petty revenge and something to pad your resume with.”

            That caught Cynthia by surprise.  “And what’s that?” she asked. 

            “Tell me: how have you been feeling over the last month since all your work with Beatrice?”  She still said her name with a distinct emphasis. 

            She thought over the answer.  It had been a hell of a month, that was to be sure.  The amount of times she had been forced out of her comfort zone had stressed her far more than she would have ever liked.  She was normally someone who could easily fool anyone around her that she was fine; cool, calm, and collected.  Beatrice had broken through that within the first few days. 

            Yet, somehow.  “Honestly? Feels weird saying it, but I’ve been…alright, I suppose.”  While stressed and exhausted hadn’t felt optimal, the usual feeling that she could only ever describe as a “weight” that followed her around hadn’t been as noticeable. 

            Amanda nodded, wiping her bangs across her face.  “Right.  While I know this isn’t a magic cure-all or anything, over the last few years of managing you, I’ve noticed that if I can keep you active in some way through the winter, you tend to do better.  Mentally, anyways.”

            She forced a laugh.  “Yeah, but normally you just book me interviews.”

            “Well, yeah, but…this was a bit of a golden opportunity.  I just–“ She paused.  She had been talking with her hands, but now made two fists.  “I want you to know that getting you to do this comes from a place of caring.”

            Cynthia shrugged, taking a small step back.  “You could have said that upfront,” she said. 

            “Could have, but I have this distinct feeling you wouldn't have been as receptive otherwise.  Now that you have some concrete evidence of it helping, well…? Who knows,” she said. 

            For a second, she thought to dispute it, wanting to defend that she wasn’t _that_ stubborn.  However, she knew herself well enough to know that she was in fact that stubborn more often than not.  Especially when it came to getting motivated in the winter.  It was all too easy to give into bad habits that would eventually call for copious amounts of mental energy to fix later on. 

            Forcing a small laugh, she looked at her manager.  “We’ll see how I feel about all of this by the end of June.”

            Amanda stepped forward, giving her a quick, playful pat on her arm.  “C’mon now, at least give it a shot.  You’re basically going to go hang out with another champion for a few months.  Try to have some fun.”

            She again shrugged in response.  “Would you happen to know anything about how much of a drama queen she is?” 

            She laughed in response, crossing her arms.  “No idea.  I mean, yeah, I’ve heard that, but you’ve heard and read rumors about yourself, and everyone on the elite four.  Rumors are rarely ever true.  You know not to search yourself on the internet; I would suggest you do the same for Diantha.  Figure her out for yourself.”

            She laughed in turn, taking the smallest of steps towards her again.  “Actually, already made that mistake.  At least with myself.” After a few nights of lack of sleep early last spring, she had broken that promise to herself to never look herself up.  Thankfully, she didn’t dig too deep.  

            “Cynthia!” she scolded, though she didn’t seem to upset.  More amused than anything. 

            “I’m cold and aloof.  What else is new?” she asked. 

            It wasn’t as if it was something she hadn’t heard, anyways.  She liked to think she wasn’t as cold and aloof as some of the articles made her seem.  It contradicted all the times she had been asked to “get to the point” when on a subject she enjoyed, but again, with how she knew herself, she also saw where people might get that impression.   

            Amanda looked at her, shifting her weight to one foot.  “If it means anything, I know that’s not true.”

            “Yeah, I’m just a pain in the ass to you,” she joked, earning another laugh from her manager. 

            “I can’t exactly deny that, but that’s not all you are to me, Cynthia.”

            She couldn't resist a grin.  “A paycheck as well.”

            Her hands fell to her side as she laughed in an exasperated way.  “Here I am trying to have a heartfelt moment with you, and you’re just shutting me down.”

            Her grin persisted.  “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from the other champions that are also politicians, it’s how to deflect when I don’t know how to answer, or I know the answer could get me in trouble.” It was a handy skill now and then, but thankfully she never had to really use it.  Sinnoh’s league wasn’t a governmental body, only a formal battle institution and nothing more. 

            She recrossed her arms.  “So which of those was it?” she asked.  

            “Actually, I have plans to go see my sister tonight, and before that I still have a research proposal to drop off with Professor Rowan for when I get back, so I really need to get going!”  Though, she never thought of herself as a masterful deflector like, say, Lance.  Whereas she thought herself obvious in her deflecting, he had it down to an art. 

            She turned her body away, implying she was about to walk away.  She had places to be, things to do, and a suitcase that needed to be packed. 

            Amanda rolled her eyes, seeming to give up on whatever she had been after.  “ _Anyways_ , you still need a ride to the airport on Thursday?” she asked. 

            She had almost forgotten about her offer.  She motioned for her to at least begin walking with her.  “Only if you’re okay with that.  I can still get a ride from someone if I need to.”

            She gave a dismissive wave of the hand.  “It’s the least I can do for basically forcing you into doing this.”

            They resumed their walk through the long corridors, down a few flights of stairs, eventually arriving at the league’s entrance.  The cold seeped in through the large doors, causing Amanda to visibly shiver. 

            Cynthia looked to her.  “Still haven’t acclimatized even though you’ve been here for how many years?”  she jokingly asked. 

            She wrapped her arms around herself tightly.  “Only in the northwestern parts of Almia did it ever get this cold.” 

            Cynthia remembered her saying that before, but being so unfamiliar with regions under the authority of the Ranger Union, she would often forget.  All she really knew about Almia was that its climate was similar to Sinnoh’s, and that the social climate regarding pokémon battles was vastly different. 

            Sometimes she wondered if Amanda’s family had any objections to her being the manager of the Sinnoh League, but had long decided that might have been too personal to ever ask. 

            Reaching into her sleeve, she pulled a hair tie off her wrist, beginning the process of pulling her hair into a low bun.  Even though she had finally shortened her hair to the middle of her back, if she didn't put it up in some way before flying, it would still result in a tangled mess. 

            Once done with that, she reached into her coat for Braviary’s poké ball, ready to get heading to Celestic Town. 

            “I’ve got a few things to wrap up before I leave, so I’ll say goodbye to you here,” Amanda said, keeping herself as far from the door as possible. 

            Cynthia laughed lightly.  “See you Thursday, then.”

            Outside the air was cold, and the wind that was kicking up snow was even colder.   

            With a quick flick of the wrist, Braviary was released from her capsule.  With a harsh call, she stretched out her grand wings, fluffing out against the cold. 

            While Braviary were on average a large pokémon, having been long bred in Unova for war, her Braviary in particular was on the extra-large side.  While feeding her was quite the task, with how reliable she was as a transport pokémon, as well as on the battlefield, it was an easy tradeoff. 

            “Let’s go see, Kay,” Cynthia said, getting a few clicks in response from the raptor. 

            Despite being used to the temperatures, by the time they reached her sister’s house in Celestic, Cynthia found her hands and cheeks burning from the cold.  Not even burying her hands deep into the down of Braviary’s feathers did more than take the edge off. 

            Shaking her hands out as she hopped off the bird pokémon, she hoped the weather would hold out in Unova.  Last she checked, it was going to be in the upper fifties the first week she got there. 

            “That was a quick flight,” she heard from behind her.

            Returning Braviary to her poké ball, Cynthia turned around to face her sister, Kay. 

            The two were about five years apart in age, and Kay’s hair was more on the strawberry blonde side like their mother’s had been. 

            She stood at the top of the stairs, wearing a thick green sweater and a cup of something warm and steaming in her hands. 

            “Winds were in our favor,” Cynthia answered, making her way up the stairs.

         The old house had once belonged to their grandparents, but had been left to the two of them after their passing four years prior.  With Cynthia well established in Sunyshore City, Kay was the only one willing to keep it, but it still always felt like coming home for Cynthia. 

            The large property it sat on was also good for leaving some of her pokémon behind during extended trips.  While she trusted Professor Rowan’s staff to look after her pokémon just fine, they always preferred staying with Kay. 

            In comparison to the outside, the house was warm and still had an underlying smell of cinnamon from the holidays.

            Cynthia made her way to the kitchen table, sitting at her usual spot while Kay brought over the teapot from the kitchen. 

            “So, have you decided who you’re taking with you to Unova?”  She asked, sitting across from her after retrieving a cup for her. 

            She gave a one arm shrug, pouring water over the teabag.  “Garchomp is a given.”  She never went anywhere without her signature pokémon. 

            _Speaking of._

            She reached into her coat pocket, pulling out Garchomp’s poké ball.  Having been together since she was a preteen, the house was just as much of home to her as it was to Cynthia. 

            She appeared with a shake, careful about her presence in the small space.  She brushed up against Kay before heading to her favorite spot in the living room, right in front of the fireplace.  Kay’s Zoroark, Zora, who was sprawled out on the couch paid her no attention. 

            Cynthia continued.  “Braviary, too, since I’ll be flying in from Undella Town once Caitlin gives me the okay to use her villa.”  Which wouldn’t be until the second week of filming, but she was still grateful for it.  Being in a hotel for a few months wasn’t an option, even with how nice the hotel was. 

            “Probably going to take Milotic as well.”  On the off chance she needed any water transportation.  Plus, she was also a bit of a signature. 

            Kay nodded along, waiting for a pause to speak.  “Can I ask a favor?”

            “Depends.”  Though, she figured at worst she would ask her to just read over a research paper before she left.  Which _maybe_ she would be willing to do. 

            Kay leaned over to look into the living room.  “Would you be willing to take Zora with you?”

            That she could definitely accommodate.  “Sure, any reason?” she asked.

            She shook her head.  “Not really.  I just haven’t been able to get back to Unova in a while, and I’m sure she’d love to see Castelia again.”  It was where she had met the pokémon as a Zorua almost a decade ago. 

            Kay took a sip of her tea, a small grin working its way onto her face.  “Besides, you never know when her ability might come in handy.”

            Cynthia laughed, swirling the teabag around the cup.  “Yeah, okay, I’m not nearly as into pretending I have a legendary pokémon as you.” 

            Kay laughed in turn.  “You never know!”  It was a prank she liked to pull a little too often on the battlefield, and was the reason the two got along so well.  They were both tricksters in their own rights. 

            After catching up with one another for a while, and then Cynthia helping out with dinner, it was time for her to get heading home.  She had already over stayed, but thankfully getting her research proposal to Rowan could wait until the morning, or even be done in an email if she felt so disinclined to fly all the way to Sandgem then back to Sunyshore. 

            Making sure Zora’s travel documents were with her, and a quick check up on the pokémon she would be leaving behind, Kay walked with her to the door. 

            The sun had long fallen below the horizon, leaving it far colder than when Cynthia had arrived.  At least she now had a scarf that she had snagged from Kay. 

            “Don’t let the fame go to your head, okay?  I don’t need you thinking you’re hot shit more than you already do,” Kay said, standing in the doorway. 

            Cynthia stopped halfway down the stairs, looking back up at her sister.  “Oh, just you wait.  If you think I had an ego from being champion for so long, just wait until I’m a movie star like Diantha…”

 

 

 

            Amanda’s Machop returned back to Cynthia’s room, a satisfied grin on her face.  She had stored away both her suitcase in no time at all. 

            “Thanks for your help,” Amanda said, returning her to her premier ball. 

            Cynthia looked up from her carryon bag.  “Mandy, I could have gotten that.”

            She snorted a laugh.  “You’re literally still packing your carryon, and I mean, it’s not like she doesn’t like flexing her muscles, anyways.” 

            She returned her focus to her bag, wrapping her phone charger around itself before tucking it away under a change of clothes. 

            She had spent most of the night packing her main suitcase, too anxious about the upcoming trip to get any decent sleep.  She had meant to pack the previous day, but had been unable to motivate herself to do so. 

            At least she was looking forward to spending some time with Steven. 

            “And while I’m thinking about it,” she continued.  “You remembered to pack something nice in case your luggage gets lost?” she asked. 

            She had nearly forgotten that.  Diantha had yet to contact her, wiping the request to get lunch together clear from her mind. 

            Amanda moved about, taking a seat on the wooden chest next to her dresser.  She then made a quick comment about how clean her house was.  All of which Cynthia ignored. 

            She returned to her closet which was thoroughly picked over by that point.  Now she regretted letting Amanda’s Machop take her suitcases to her car. 

            Settling for a dress shirt and some black slacks, it was all Diantha was going to get out of her. 

            “Passport?” Amanda asked. 

            “Yes,” she said, shuffling things in her carryon to accommodate the extra clothes. 

            “Travel capsules?” she followed up.

            “All my pokémon hate them, but yes.”  Of all, Garchomp hated them the most.  They were devices similar in appearance to contest capsules, however, they instead prevented pokémon from escaping their balls during flight.  It always seemed to leave Garchomp feeling stressed out afterwards. 

            Amanda nodded.  “Everyone’s do.  Enough clothes and whatnot to keep you satisfied for about three months?”

            “Hopefully.  If not, I’ll be giving you a call,” she said, folding the shirt to fit into her bag. 

            “That’s not in my job description,” Amanda responded, crossing her legs. 

            Cynthia shot her a pointed look.  “Is anything we do in this league a part of your job description?” 

            “Fair point.  Just mind the time difference.” 

            “I’ll be five hours behind, right?”  Hopefully she had that down at least. 

            She nodded in response.  “Travel papers for all of your pokémon including your sister’s Zoroark?” 

            “Yes.”  With how easy it was to send pokémon across the globe already, travel papers were hardly even looked at.  Regardless, she still made sure to have them all in her possession.  If anything, they were used to just keep a trail of who the pokémon was and where they were at. 

            “Last question: Everything arranged for you to be gone for so long payment wise?” 

            “Everything’s on autopay, and Kay’s going to come by now and then to just check on things, so yeah.”  It was a bit of blind faith she was putting into her sister.  If something did go wrong, there was only so much she could do from all the way in Unova, so it would be up to Kay to fix the problem. 

            Getting up from her seat, Amanda looked her over expectantly.  “Actually, one last question: are you prepared to not be seeing this gorgeous face for a few months?” she asked, putting her hand below her chin. 

            “Who?” Cynthia asked, innocently. 

            “Me, doofus,” she said.

            Cynthia grinned.  “Oh, well, you said gorgeous face and well–“

            Amanda’s jaw dropped, and true to dramatic form, she playfully smacked Cynthia’s arm, following her out the house.  “Rude and uncalled for!”

            “Gotta get my kicks where I can,” she answered, laughing to herself. 

 

 

 

            Many hours later, after a long flight to Mossdeep City, Cynthia sat with Steven on the veranda of some restaurant of his choosing.  Her coat had been long dismissed, hanging over the back of her chair, and she was fanning herself with the wine menu. 

            “It’s actually pretty cool, all things considered,” Steven joked, careful to mind his feet of Garchomp, who was sprawled out beside them. 

            She gave him a pointed look.  “It was one when I left Sinnoh,” she said, now speaking in terms of Celsius.  Sinnoh, Unova, and Alola were among the only regions who exclusively used Fahrenheit, but with her research she was well versed in going back and forth between them.  The same went with imperial and metric.  “I’m assuming it’s around twenty, here?”

            He nodded, leaning back in his chair.  “It was twenty-five, earlier.”

            “It’s March,” she reminded. 

            “Welcome back to Hoenn,” he joked. 

            With good timing, their server came back with glasses of ice water, and an assurance that their meal would be coming soon. 

            She took a grateful sip of her drink, keeping her hands around the cool glass.  “So, let me ask you: have you ever spent much time with Diantha?” she asked. 

            He nodded.  “I’ve spent quite a bit of time with her, actually!  She was here for a month while filming Hoenn Holiday, and we would get lunch often, and whenever she’s in the region she usually reaches out to get together.  I try to do the same when in Kalos if she’s there.”

            With filming an entire movie in a month probably didn’t leave him with a lot of time to spend with her, it was still more than she currently knew about the other champion. “What can you tell me about her?” 

            “Well,” he began, clasping his hands atop the table.  “What do you want to know?” he asked. 

            She shrugged a bit as a way to fill the silence with something. 

            In truth, she wasn’t even too sure of what she was really looking for.  “I guess, as a basic, what is she like?  I honestly think she and I haven’t said anything more than a formal greeting at the international meetings.”  Since there was no use hiding anything from Steven, she added, “I’ve always wanted to know her, but I just never seemed to be able to catch her at the right time.” 

            He hummed in acknowledgement, seeming to think over his answer.  “Admittedly, I just got lucky with her picking me as her opponent in the introductory meeting for Kalos.  She’s usually an absolute busy-bee.  Hardly has a moment of downtime.  Most of time when we were getting lunch together, she would have to run off back to filming.”  He seemed almost disappointed by his own words. 

            “I know.  We were supposed to have a battle at the last meet, but she bailed the meeting pretty much after Kalos presented.”  Likely he remembered, but she brought it up just to be on the safe side. 

            “You had a good match against Siebold, at least,” he pointed out. 

            Being the host region, she got to choose who she wanted to battle for the exhibition match, and she had specifically picked Diantha since they had yet to battle one another.  However, with her bailing, it went down the line of succession, leaving Siebold next in line to battle her. 

            It had been a good match.  It was no wonder he was at the top of the Kalos Elite Four.  It had been a full six-on-six battle, and to his credit, he brought down about half of her team, including Roserade.  But the second she brought out Garchomp, even his mega-evolved Blastoise didn’t stand a chance. 

            “Yeah,” she answered.  “But it wasn’t the same.  It would be like you battling Lucian.  Sure, he can be the acting league head when I’m not around, but it’s not the same.”

            He nodded.  “I see what you mean, but so…okay.”  He leaned back, rethinking how he was going to answer.  “Let me ask you this: what do _you_ think of her?”

            For a moment, she thought over her answer.  The quiet sounds of people and their pokémon passing by the restaurant filled the silence. 

            It was Steven, she reasoned.  There was no point in lying or avoiding the truth with him.  He would always catch her before she could even try.  “Like I said, I’ve never really even talked to her.  I only know trivial things about her.  She can use mega evolution with her Gardevoir and is pretty famous in Kalos.  I assume she’s a big deal in Unova as well.  Other than that, I’ve only heard other people talk about her, but I can’t say that it’s from people that know her personally.”

            His head tilted.  “You sound apprehensive.” 

            “I’ve heard good things, but I’ve also heard she’s a huge diva.  I guess I’m just worried she’s going to be a nightmare to work with.” 

            He laughed lightly at that.  “Let me put it this way, Cynthia: I wouldn’t ask her to lunch all the time if she was a nightmare.  She’s a genuine woman.” 

            She couldn’t resist kicking him under the table.  “All the time, huh?” 

            He grinned, looking away from her.  “Let’s just say if she was single, I definitely would have asked her on a proper date by now.”  It got a laugh from Cynthia. 

            She wouldn’t lie to him, and he wouldn’t lie to her.  She knew he was very much aware that he was considered conventionally attractive, despite how oblivious he generally pretended to be. 

            She also didn’t realize Diantha was dating anyone.  Then again, she was doing her best to not look her up in any way other than asking the people around her.  If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that online articles couldn’t be trusted for the most part.  The more famous a person got, the wilder the articles would become. 

            “Flint’s dying to know if she’s as big of a diva Malva makes her out to be,” she said, moving the conversation forward. 

            He unclasped his hands, now talking with them.  “Cynthia, no contest, Wallace is a bigger diva than her.” 

            She laughed hard. 

            “She can have her moments, just like all of us, but…Cynthia I wouldn’t even worry about it.  Like I said, she’s a very genuine woman, and to be honest?  I have a feeling you two are going to get along just fine.” 

            As he said it, she started to wonder exactly what he meant by it.  What did it mean to Steven for someone to be genuine?  Was it a descriptor he would use for her?  He didn’t seem to mean in it a negative manner, at the very least. 

            He continued on when she said nothing in response.  “So, where are you two going for lunch?” he asked. 

            “Oh, uh…” she reached into her bag, searching for her phone in the front pocket.  Sliding it to open, she looked for her message from Diantha.  She had conveniently forgotten to respond, and then handed it to Steven.  “I…can’t pronounce it.  I’m almost positive it’s the French name for Swanna, though.”  It was all she got from a cursory Google search, at least.        

He hummed, handing her phone back to her before grabbing his own.  After a few seconds he began to laugh. 

            “What?”  She asked, putting her phone under her thigh. 

            “She must be trying to impress you!  She’s never invited me to a restaurant with a view of the city.”  He handed his phone to her, laughing again as her eyes widened at the pictures from the restaurant’s website. 

            She handed his phone back to him, dread once again creeping into her stomach.  The outfit she had picked suddenly felt severely underdressed, and nothing in her suitcase would likely suffice either.  There also wouldn’t be time for Amanda to send her anything…

 

 

            Half awake, sprawled out on Steven’s couch, Cynthia rolled on her back, looking over to Steven who sat in his chair.  Something about the commercial that had just passed brought up the memory. 

            “Diantha is dating someone?” 

            He nodded, moving to pop his knuckles.  “Yes.”  He looked up to the side, as if it would help him better recall.  “His name is Mel Gardner.  He’s…I believe famous in Kalos, for film noir of all things.”

            She found herself laughing.  “Film noir is still a thing?  Is he like…seventy?” 

            He laughed at that, watching as she pulled herself into a more seated position.  “I think it’s technically called neo-noir now, but it’s still noir.”  He paused for a second.  “And no, he’s not seventy.  I actually had the…pleasure–“ the way he said it indicated no pleasure “–of meeting him when she was filming in Hoenn.  I wasn’t impressed, but he’s no older than forty.  She’s…I want to say the same age as you, maybe a year younger.”

            She withheld a laugh.  Generally, she went by a “three up and three down” policy when it came to the ages of people she dated.  Being only twenty-seven, she couldn't imagine dating someone almost forty. 

            “Why weren’t you impressed?” she asked.

            He shrugged, stretching his legs out in front of him.  “I’m not impressed by men who spend an obvious amount of money to bleach their hair only to have it done badly.”

            It was almost a little too specific.  She laughed again, running a hand through her own hair.  “He wishes he had hair like me, doesn’t he?”

            He laughed along, leaning forward, but speaking a little more quietly, as if anyone other than Garchomp and his Archeops were around to hear him.  “Diantha confided to me that he’s a little…insecure about his battling abilities, and so I got the feeling he didn’t like me because I'm a champion.”  He leaned back.  “You being a champion combined with natural blonde hair?  You’re the physical embodiment of all his insecurities.” 

            Maybe it was a little callous to make fun of a man she didn’t even know, but she couldn't resist laughing. 

            Though, she also found herself wondering how did he handle dating Diantha, the champion of the Kalos region?

            As she was about to lay back down, the commercial break ending, her phone buzzed on the coffee table.  She grabbed for it before settling back down.  A message from Amanda as well as a notification from her airline app.  Her messages weren’t set to give a preview of anything, but the app was letting her know her flight in the morning had already been delayed. 

            Though, if she had to guess, it was probably some vague reminder to not have “too much fun” with Steven. 

            She laughed lightly as she put it back on the table, getting Steven’s attention. 

            “My manager definitely thinks we’re fucking,” she joked. 

            He laughed in turn.  “We are?  You should have told me!  I would have at least taken my shirt off.”

            She grabbed the pillow out from under her head, tossing it at him.  To her surprise, he caught it, tossing it right back at her.  All she could do was hold it to her chest, laughing in defeat. 

            While maybe her trip to Hoenn was a bit of a waste of time, having some time to just laugh and be around Steven eased her anxiety towards the upcoming months...   

 

             

Sunlight filtered into the master bedroom through the tall floor to ceiling windows.  Everything was brightened by the grey and lavender color scheme of the room. 

            Diantha stood in the walk-in closet with Gardevoir, holding up two different shirts.  “Which one do you think, darling?” she asked, looking between the two.  Both were mute in color; a dark grey cardigan, and a lighter grey sweater.  While she might have normally gone for brighter colors, she wanted to keep things as simple as possible. 

            Gardevoir hummed, eventually motioning towards the cardigan. 

            “A solid choice, my dear.”  She handed it off to her then started putting the other outfit away. 

            Walking back into the bedroom, Gardevoir had laid the garment on her bed and was now staring out the windows.  Like her, the Castelia apartment was one of her favorites, and it was easy to spend hours watching the city below them go by. 

            Diantha grabbed the clothes off the bed, and headed off to the bathroom to finish getting ready.  Just as she had finished pulling her arms through the cardigan, her phone’s text tone sounded from her nightstand. 

            She headed back into the room, picking it up.  It was Cynthia letting her know that she was ready.

            Sending her a reply saying she would be heading out to pick her up shortly, she returned her attention to Gardevoir.  “You know, I can’t say that I’m thrilled to be working with someone so new at this, but it will be nice to finally get to know her.” 

            One of the producers slipped to her that Cynthia had been sent a personal trainer to get ready for acting, and now she was curious to see how well it had gone.  Going from no experience whatsoever to be thrown into a larger project could be telling.  Though, telling of Cynthia’s ability to pick up a skill, or the trainer’s ability to teach, she couldn’t decide on. 

            Once done with the last of her makeup she headed back into the room, where Gardevoir was already holding her mega charm necklace. 

            “Thank you again, darling.”  She took the necklace, clipping it around her neck. 

            With one last look in the mirror, she decided she was ready to leave. 

 

 

            Walking into the lobby of the hotel Cynthia was staying at, spotting her was an easy task.  Like with the international meetings, she was generally the tallest person in the room, and her long platinum hair stood out amongst the crowd. 

            She seemed to be in the middle of a conversation with someone, so Diantha stood by, waiting for the right moment to make herself noticed. 

            In the middle of talking, Cynthia’s eyes met hers.  As she excused herself from the conversation, Diantha felt an anxious shake return to her hands.  Tightening them around her clutch purse was about all she could do to force it down. 

            Whether she realized it or not, Cynthia carried herself with such an ethereal air it left Diantha flustered.  “Cynthia!  It’s so good to see you,” she greeted. 

            Cynthia wasn’t fairing much better.  She had been anxious all morning, worrying over her appearance more than she would have normally.  Even during the international meetings she didn’t stress over it.  Of all the things she had anxiety over, her appearance was typically not among them. 

            Maybe it was just the desire to make as good of an impression as possible considering how closely they were going to be working over the next few months. 

            “Yeah, same.  Sorry it’s taken so long to finally get to, uh, really talk.”  Sometimes she astounded herself with how she could go from a noted brilliant speaker, to fumbling over a basic greeting. 

            She smiled at her.  “Don’t even worry about it, Cynthia.  I’m thrilled we have the chance to be working together like this.”  More or less. 

            She turned herself more towards the door.  “Ready to go?” she asked. 

            Cynthia remained in her spot.  “Sure, but, before we go, you would let me know if I was underdressed, right?” 

            At that, Diantha couldn't resist giving her a look over.  She reasoned to herself that it was an unspoken invitation to do so.  “Of course.”

            A form-fitting blue blouse, and black slacks.  Simple, yet on her, Diantha found it lovely.  “You’re tall and gorgeous, Cynthia.  You could wear just about anything and get anywhere in this town.”  She forced herself to start walking before she could embarrass herself any further. 

            Cynthia forced a small laugh.  “Good to know,” she said, falling in step beside her. 

            The door was opened for them as they left the building, and her driver was quick to open their doors as well. 

            “Trust me,” Diantha continued once in her seat.  “This place is highbrow only in name.  I picked it because the view is incredible.  Probably one of the best in the city.”

            “Steven said the same thing,” she said, carefully crossing her legs at the ankle.  Already she found herself uncomfortable once more.  As simple as it was, she wasn't used to the treatment of having doors opened and closed for her, leaving her feeling out of sorts. 

            Diantha turned to face her better.  “Oh, you’ve seen Steven recently?”

            She nodded.  “Thursday and some of yesterday.  I had a layover in Hoenn, so I spent some time with him.”  She didn’t know whether or not she should elaborate more.  She wasn’t sure of how much Diantha knew of the rumors surrounding her and Steven, and now wasn’t the time to stoke them. 

            “It’s been some time since I last saw him.  I take it he’s doing well?”  she asked. 

            She was very aware of the rumors around her and Steven.  Always whisperings of what was or wasn’t going on between them at international meetings.

            She tried not to put any stock into it.  Thought, she couldn't help but wonder if there was any real credence to the rumors. 

            “He is.  He’s in the middle of setting up Wallace as the next Hoenn champion, and I’m still interested to see how that’s going to play out.”  In some ways it did make her sad.  Steven had been a champion longer than she had, and had been the first one to help her adjust to her new life.  While it would be another year or two before he stepped down completely, it wasn’t something she was looking forward to. 

            Diantha hummed in response.  “I would say it’s a shame that he’s stepping down, but it isn’t as though I don’t understand.  I’ve only been champion of Kalos for five years now, and he’s been it for what…thirteen years, is that right?”

            She nodded. 

            “And in Hoenn, he’s also a political figure, right?”

            Another nod. 

            “I can’t imagine the kind of stress he must be under,” she said.

            “Remind me,” Cynthia began, adjusting herself in her spot.  “The Kalos League isn’t a political organization is it?” 

            She shook her head.  “No, in fact, my league runs differently than most of the others in that my elite four and I are only active in the summer.”

            “Right, I remember that.” 

            Unlike her league and the majority of the others, where she could be technically challenged at any point, the Kalos League’s elite four only took challenges during the summer months.  Any trainers who had eight badges were invited to attend a conference of sorts where they would challenge one another, until only the top twenty remained.  Those twenty would then be permitted to challenge the elite four.  If they happened to make it through the four, only then could they challenge Diantha for her position. 

            If she remembered correctly, Diantha only reported ever being challenged a few times during the five years Kalos had been a part of the alliance. 

            She had never lost, and so once the summer was over, she held her position safely for another year. 

            “You’re also not a political figure, correct?” Diantha followed up.

            “Right.  I’m just the head of the league, nothing more.” 

            They talked a while longer about the intricacies of their league’s politics, finding some common ground in that, but eventually the conversation ended, and Cynthia found herself struggling to think of something else to talk about. 

            As someone who was often asked to “stop talking” or “please just get to the point”, it was incredibly frustrating to sit in silence like this. 

            For Diantha is was more or less a comfortable silence.  Though, she could see that Cynthia wasn’t enjoying it as much. 

            She wanted to save most of the talking for the restaurant, which, thankfully, soon came into view. 

            A part of her worried about having gone overboard with her restaurant choice, but she wanted to make the best impression possible on her. 

            At the curb, their door was opened for them, and her driver wished them a good time. 

            Restaurant staff escorted them to the elevator that would take them up to the correct floor. 

            Diantha could practically feel Cynthia bristling beside her.  “Are you alright?”

            She forced herself to breathe.  “Are you sure I’m not underdressed?” she again asked. 

            Diantha giggled beside her, nudging her lightly, trying to put off as casual of an air as possible.  Maybe it would relax her some.  “Darling, if I may be so bold, you look stunning.  You don’t need to worry about a thing.”  Hopefully that didn’t come across as too forward. 

            She at least seemed to ease a little. 

            Walking off the elevator then into the restaurant lobby, Cynthia quickly realized that Diantha hadn’t lied about the view.  If anything, she had sold it short, as had the pictures she had seen of the place. 

            One of the tallest buildings in the heart of Castelia, the tall windows gave a near panoramic view of the city around them.  The clouds above them seemed almost within reach.  If she felt closely enough, she could also feel the building swaying gently below them. 

            “Ms. Ruston!  So good to see you!”  The man behind the host desk greeted, walking out from behind it to personally greet them. 

            “Good to see you, too, darling,” she responded. 

            Briefly, Cynthia wondered if she called everyone darling, or if it was a placeholder for when she forgot a name.  

            The man was young and handsome.  Dark skin and a strong jaw that was clean shaven, and he was just barely shorter than Cynthia herself.  Despite his attire being a navy-blue dress shirt and black slacks, Cynthia once again felt underdressed. 

            “And this is?” he asked, looking up to Cynthia. 

            She looked up to her as well.  “Damien–“ so she did know his name “–this is Sinnoh Champion Cynthia,” she introduced.

            Something about the use of her title left her feeling a little embarrassed. 

            He instantly offered her his hand. “My apologies for not recognizing you, Cynthia!”

            His handshake was firm.  “Don’t worry about it.  I’m not famous like her,” she said, looking down to Diantha.

            She smiled to herself, but said nothing in response. 

            With that, he began to walk them to their table, talking with Diantha a little more.  “So, what brings you both to Unova?” he asked.

            “We’re working on a project together,” she simply put. 

            While they briefly caught up with one another, Cynthia took the opportunity to scope out the restaurant.  It had been updated since the pictures she had seen.  The decor itself was a little on the plain side, mostly black and white, accented with a royal blue.  Though, in its plainness, it seemed to help accentuate the beauty of the city. 

            Which she realized was getting closer as Damien led them towards a table by the window.  Thankfully, she didn’t suffer from a fear of heights, because if she had, it might have been a bit of a nightmare. 

            “Thank you, darling,” Diantha said, taking her seat.  

            He gave her a quick nod.  “Lydia will be taking care of you both today, but if you need anything else, be sure to let me know,” he said, more towards Diantha. 

            Once he had walked away, Cynthia spoke.  “He seems nice.”

            She smiled, giving Cynthia her full attention.  “He’s an absolute dear.  When I first met him, he was one of the caterers for the film I was in.  Now, he and his husband own this place.”

            It wasn’t the first time she had heard the words.  It wasn’t even the tenth time.  She had heard it plenty of times over her lifetime, and even more and more frequently as the years passed.  However, there was just something about hearing “his husband” that felt so comforting that it was almost a complete emotion in itself. 

            “So, Cynthia, I figured I would wait to ask you this for when we got here,” she said, glancing down at her menu if only for posterity.  She already knew what she was going to order.  She looked back up at her, meeting her eyes.  “Are you looking forward to filming?  I know this is quite out of your…what’s the best phrasing…?”

            She forced a laugh.  “Out of my comfort zone? Yeah, you could say that.”

            It worked well enough, so she nodded.

            “I’m looking forward to it as much as I can, I guess.  At least I’m not dreading it like I was when I first said yes.”

            Diantha laughed lightly.  “I’m curious why you said yes if you were dreading it?”

            She shrugged, not wanting to give away too much.  “I just wanted them to stop bugging me, and, honestly, I thought they would change their mind when they realized I wasn’t the champion who was also an actress.  I didn’t realize they were going to send me an acting coach.”

            “How did that go?”  She thought to ask who her acting coach was, but figured it wouldn’t lead to much. 

            She shrugged.  “It…Beatrice opened me up to the idea, at least.  I mean, if nothing else, it’s an experience, and I’m committed to it at this point.”  She thought of mentioning that she was looking forward to working together, but found herself unsure of how that might come across, and so decided against it. 

            It was enough for Diantha, but before she could offer a response, their server approached their table, introducing herself and then going through her script of the daily specials. 

            Cynthia picked something among what she listed off, and Diantha went with what she had already decided on ahead of time.  With that, the young woman headed off, leaving them to their conversation.

            “So, can I ask how difficult this is going to be?”  Cynthia asked, returning her attention to Diantha. 

            She gave a vague gesture with her hands, before clasping them atop the table.  “I feel as though…I want– sorry.”  Words suddenly seem to refuse her.  “For me, personally, if it goes anything like it did last time for the first episode, this is going to be a breeze.  However, I’m able to say that because for the first time in a long time, this is my only project.  I have no planned interviews or other projects running alongside it.  I’m choosing to focus solely on this.”

            She thought to ask why, but not wanting to delve into her own mental health, Cynthia refrained from doing so.  If Diantha wanted to talk about it, she was more than welcome to.  Otherwise, she wouldn’t press for information. 

            Diantha leaned in a bit, despite how far away the next occupied table was from them.  “Admittedly, Cynthia, a project like this should only take…” She looked up to the side.  “Honestly, two, _maybe_ three, weeks.  A month if some scenes just go to hell or there’s location or weather issues.” Though, most crews always had a skilled Castform with them to help keep most weather at bay. 

            Cynthia found that interesting.  “And this is being stretched into three months?”

            Diantha nodded, a look of mild irritation on her features.  “I’ve had movies of the same length that were done in two months.  Tom Sharpe is…how can I best put this?”  She didn’t want to badmouth her director.  Doing so risked her looking bad, or getting overheard.  Tom, being who he was, wouldn’t stand for being badmouthed in public. But she also didn’t want to be dishonest with her.  “He’s– The producers are, more or less, in his pocket.  Normally, it might be the other way around, but I’ve always had the feeling he has something on them they don’t want to get out.”

            Already Hollywood was looking to be a drama-fest. 

            “So, they let him take his time and execute his ‘grand vision’ and take far too long filming, and all of their pockets stay nice and full.  Granted, I have no solid proof of this, but with how long I’ve been at this…it’s a strong feeling I get.” 

            She could see she was making Cynthia apprehensive.  Knowing she was already on thin ice with the whole project, she realized she should be working to boost her confidence in things rather than harm it. 

            “I apologize,” she continued, leaning back in her seat.   “I realize I’m probably not selling this very well.  From what I’ve heard, the crew is mostly the same from before, and so apart from Tom, everyone was lovely to work with.  For your first time being an actress, I don’t think you could have asked for a better cast and crew to be working with.”

            Cynthia couldn't resist teasing her when it was handed to her so simply.  “So, you consider yourself a pleasure to work with?”

            She laughed lightly, more at herself.  “I wasn’t meaning to include myself in that, but sure!  I’m an absolute delight!” she said with a noticeable edge of sarcasm.  While she was confident in her abilities as an actress, it wasn’t her decision to make on whether or not she was pleasant to work with. 

            There had been a few sets she had been on where she was sure she wasn’t the director’s favorite actress to work with.  She wouldn't lie and say she hadn’t burned a few bridges in her day. 

            But she would keep the atmosphere playful enough, trying her best to keep on Cynthia’s good side.  Burning the bridge with another champion was bad for a number of reasons, but beyond that, she just found herself a little desperate to stay in her good graces.  She had wanted to know Cynthia for so long, she wasn’t going to try to ruin the chance she was given. 

            Cynthia at least laughed along with her. 

            From there, after promising they didn’t have to talk about film-related matters the whole time, they talked about more casual things, never delving deeper than the surface.  Basic things like where they grew up, how they met different members of their team, and what their ascension to champion was like. 

            By the time their meal arrived they were at least keeping conversation up with one another, and during the occasional lulls, it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been in the car for Cynthia. 

            At the end of their meal, Diantha insisted on paying since she was the one to ask Cynthia to join in her in the first place.  It had taken some convincing on Cynthia’s part, but she finally gave up the battle, figuring with how well things went, they might get together again offset sometime, and she would pay then. 

            When they arrived back at her hotel, she found herself at least hoping that would be the case. 

            Just as Cynthia was about to get out of the car, with one final thank you for lunch on her tongue, Diantha accidentally cut her off. 

            “You know, Cynthia,” she began, leaning over.  “I very much look forward to working with you.  I will warn you, however: I don’t think you have any idea of what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

            There was an amusement in her tone that Cynthia mistook for something more as a sneer.  It was as if she was saying, “you’re not cut out for this’, and while that had been her own take on things, there was something about it that decidedly felt like a challenge. 

            Sure, she had finally come around to the idea of things and had stopped hoping to be sent home early on.  Now, she found it quickly growing into a burning desire to do better than she even thought she could, and make Diantha eat her words. 

            She knew exactly what she had gotten into. 

            Instead of saying any of it, though, she just shrugged, and stepped out of the car. 

            “I will see you for script meetings on Monday,” Diantha said. 

            With a wave of the hand, not even bothering to look back, her driver shut the door, leaving her to walk back into the hotel.   She tried her best to not display the fire that now fueled her every step. 

             It no longer mattered to her how well she had thought lunch had gone over.  The idea of getting another meal with her was no longer a consideration. 

            She might have been able to put on a good front, but Cynthia wasn’t going to be deceived by a pretty woman with blue eyes who somehow had an even lovelier smile.  She would show that uptight Kalosian actress who thought she was above everyone else just what she was made of. 

 

 

 

– – – – 

INT. DIRTY ABANDONED HOUSE - DUSK

LIVING ROOM 

Scarlet walks around the room, her shoes clicking against the wooden floor, applying her red lipstick with care. 

She stops in front of a mirror to check her work. 

Camera pans over to see William tied to a chair in the reflection. 

William struggles against his binding. 

WILLIAM

Scarlet!  Don’t do this to me!

Scarlet laughs, turning around to face him, and starts to walk towards him as she rolls her lipstick down into its case.    

SCARLET

I’m sorry it’s come to this, William, but you’re old news now.  I’m ready to move onto the next.

WILLIAM

I can get a faster car!  I can figure it out!  You just gotta give me time!

Scarlet shakes her head, leaning down to place a kiss on his cheek.  He struggles again, desperate to get free. 

SCARLET

You know I’m not a patient woman.  We’ve nearly been caught three times now because of you!  I’ve given you plenty of chances, and you’ve failed me for the last time. 

WILLIAM

Scarlet!  Listen to me!  I know you!  You don’t want to be left alone with Charles!  I know you don’t!  You and I both know what he’s like, and if he gets it to where it’s just you two– This is what he wants!  You know it is!

Scarlet smiles, taking a few steps back. 

SCARLET

A valiant attempt at preserving your life, but I think I know Charles far better than you do.

WILLIAM

I beg to differ, Scarlet, he– 

SCARLET

Oh?  Really?  Then beg. 

She reaches into her purse.

WILLIAM

No, no, no!  Scarlet–! 

MOVE TO

 

EXT.  ABANDONED HOUSE IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE - DUSK

There’s a flash that lights up the front window accompanied by the muffled sound of a gunshot. 

Seconds later, the door to the house opens, Scarlet now standing in the doorway, her hand back in her purse.  William is slumped on the ground, his head by her foot. 

She looks down at him. 

SCARLET

I was hoping you would beg at my heel like the dog you are, but I will settle for this.

Scarlet walks down the steps, the dry earth crunching below her.  In what remains of the driveway, Charles waits for her, in the driver seat of William’s old car. 

CHARLES

Everything taken care of?

She’s silent for a moment as she climbed into the passenger seat.  She then looks over to him. 

SCARLET

In all my years I’ve never once regretted a kill. 

She leans over to get in his face.  

SCARLET (CONT'D)

If you value your life, you’ll see to it that I don’t come to regret this one as well. 

Or else. 

He leans back, bumping into the door.  His voice is shaky. 

CHARLES

Of course.  I’ve already got somebody in mind, so don’t you worry that pretty little mind of yours, okay?  

She leans back into her seat, placated for the moment.  

– – – –

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter ended up being MUCH longer than i expected it to lmao 
> 
> i'm super excited about the next chapter, though!! it's also going to be pretty lengthy. it was my longest chapter during nanowrimo, so we'll see how long it gets this time. if it gets too bad i'll cut it into two, but we'll see!! 
> 
> ALSO as always a special shout out to my dear friend Harley for the name used for Cynthia's sister. <3 
> 
> AND I know it's probably redundant to use the same oc from Second Chances to be Diantha's bad boyfriend, but I just have this weird thing against demonizing any actual characters, because I don't want to hurt another pairing just to bolster the main one. So, Mel Gardner.  
> If I ever get working on this other fic I have ideas for, he'll make a third appearance lma o 
> 
> thanks for your continued support!! 
> 
> i hope you're having a wonderful day or night wherever you are!
> 
> -Tori


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the first few days go to absolute hell.

            The hotel Cynthia had been put up in for the time being was a lovely conference center hotel, and it was one that had been used for the international meeting a few years back.  While it had been over five years since she had stepped foot into the building, the layout quickly came back to her. 

            A few different events were being held throughout the center, leaving the lobby café with a steady flow of people. 

             Sipping her coffee, Cynthia scrolled through her phone, half-listening to the sounds around her.  The ceramic cup fit perfectly in her hand and was at just the right temperature.  Garchomp laid by her feet now that her stomach was finally full, content to watch the hotel around them move. 

            In hindsight, coffee probably wasn’t the best decision.  With anxiety towards the day ahead of her sitting at the back of her mind, coffee was only going to worsen it.  For now, she tried to ground herself in the moment as much as possible. 

            A grunt from Garchomp alerted Cynthia to the approaching waitstaff before she was even within sight. 

            “Are you still doing alright?” she asked, approaching Cynthia’s chair. 

            “Yes, excellent, thank you,” she said, looking up to the young woman.  She had been very attentive to her despite the whole café area seeming to be under her and one other person’s watch.      
            While Cynthia wasn’t one to go around thinking everyone found her attractive, the way she held herself around her left her confident that she might think that.  There was something a little more purposeful in how she leaned in when talking to her, and the attentiveness despite the crowd felt like it meant something. 

            Though, Cynthia realized, she could be reading far too much into it.  Regardless, she looked maybe twenty-two, which was out of Cynthia’s age range. 

            “Oh, sweet!  Is that a Garchomp?” 

            Cynthia and the server both looked up to see a young man standing at the plant divider, looking down at Cynthia’s pokémon.  

            Garchomp lifted her head at the noise, then looked back to Cynthia for what to do. 

            He looked to Cynthia with expectant grey eyes.  “You gotta battle me!”  

            She looked over the kids face, making her split-second assessment.  Kid might have been incorrect, he was maybe the same age as her server.  While it was perfectly acceptable to not have recognized her as the Sinnoh champion –Castelia City was huge and she wasn’t about to think she was _that_ well known– the fact that he couldn’t tell Garchomp’s strength from a look was telling that he was an inexperienced trainer.  Maybe a few badges at most. 

            Hands still on her drink, she shook her head.  “I’d rather not,” she said. She wasn't about to embarrass the poor kid.  Not this early into her trip. 

            He leaned through the divider, only somewhat careful of the plants he was disturbing.  “What?  Scared you’re going to lose?”

            _Ah._

            So that was the kind of boy he was. 

            She knew she should have been above such a taunt.  She had heard far worse, but something about it ground on her nerves.  “Hardly.  I’m just not about to embarrass you this early in the morning,” she said, emphasizing with a sip of her drink. 

            The server had turned away to being clearing another table, but Cynthia caught the little laugh from her. 

            He wasn’t turned away.  “Bet you’re just scared that I might have an ice type since Garchomp are double weak to them!” 

            Cynthia’s shoulders slumped.  It was too damn early for this.  “I’m not about to lose my table just to take three turns to wipe you.”

            Her server was quick to turn around.  “I can hold your table for you if you want!”

            What she _wanted_ was for this to be over with, but none of that would happen until everyone was off her back. 

            Looking down at Garchomp, she made her decision.  Likely, all it would take was one use of Dragon Rush to make the kid regret challenging her. 

            Standing up with a purposefully noticeable sigh, she motioned with her free hand for Garchomp to get up.  She was going to do this with her coffee still in hand. 

            The boy pumped his fists in excitement, running his side of the barrier to the door that would lead to the courtyard. 

            “Good luck out there!” her server said, before quickly adding, “Not that you need it, I’m sure you’re plenty strong–I –anyways!  I’ll hold your table.” 

            Cynthia gave a quick smile to the obviously flustered woman before heading off.  She pretended to not notice the eyes that followed her out the door. 

            With them being in the city, moves like Earthquake would be banned, and Dig might be useless if the courtyard field wasn’t deep enough.  She would refrain from using it just to be on the safe side. 

            “I’m accepting this as a one-on-one.  Nothing else,” she said, meeting him in the courtyard. 

            His grin was wide across his face.  “Fine!  You’re gonna regret that, though!”  He said before running off to the opposing side of the battle area. 

            At least he had the decency to not make her walk farther than necessary. 

            His pokémon of choice was released with a flash, the pink creature giving a deep growl, baring their fangs.  He had picked a Granbull. 

            Briefly she wondered if he even did have an ice type pokémon, but she knew he was going for the fact that his pokémon was a fairy type, and now all of her dragon moves would be useless.  He was also likely counting on her refusing to use most ground moves. 

            She grinned, knowing exactly how to deal with the problem –if it could even be called that.  “Ready to use that move we learned in Alola?” she asked, running her free hand over Garchomp’s back as she passed her. 

            Her scaly face had something of a smirk on it. 

            They only needed two turns. 

            “Since you asked for this battle, you can start things off,” Cynthia invited, taking a sip of her coffee.  The air in the courtyard was cool, but hopefully this would be over before it changed her drink’s temperature too much. 

            “Let’s play with them a little rough, Granbull!” 

            His pokémon lunged forward, but was far too slow for Garchomp. 

            “Dragon Claw,” Cynthia ordered, watching her pokémon side-step the other. 

            With a quick hit, she merely deflected Granbull. 

            The boy began to laugh.  “Man, don’t you know a fairy type when you see one?” he asked.

            She said nothing, waiting for him to retaliate in some way.  She was also becoming aware that he wasn’t too thrilled about her silence.  He was just looking for a reaction. 

            “Headbutt!”

            Cynthia said nothing.  Her pokémon merely puffed out her chest, taking the hit as if it were nothing.  When her eyes met Garchomp’s, she gave her order.  With perfect timing, too.  They had gathered a small crowd of those who happened to be in the courtyard already, and some who came out from the hotel. 

            For a second, she thought to continue playing with them, but thought better of it.  It wasn’t behavior fitting of a champion. 

            “Stomping Tantrum.”

            With a quick lift of her arm, Garchomp let out a guttural growl, stomping her foot before slamming her fin directly into Granbull’s head. 

            Allotting a few seconds for him to get up, it was a decided knockout.   

            It took a lot of restraint to not laugh at the look of absolute dismay on his face. 

            Garchomp sauntered over back to Cynthia’s side 

            “Good job, Eris.” 

            It wasn’t all that often Cynthia would use Garchomp’s nickname, or any of her pokémon’s, really.  It was a common thing to do among well-known trainers, calling their pokémon by their species name rather than a nickname lessened confusion during battles for opponents, announcers, and audiences. 

            Garchomp gave a low grumble, at a pitch she knew to be a happy noise. 

             The kid had recalled his Granbull and was making his way to Cynthia’s side of the field.  He raised his hands up, clenching and unclenching his fists, seeming desperate to think of a response. 

            “How?”  Was all he managed. 

            “I’m assuming you’re a young trainer, so I would advise you to work on sizing up your opponent.”  She and Garchomp both took a step forward, forcing him to take one back.  “I would also advise you: the next time someone tells you no: _listen._ ”

            His voice was barely a squeak.  “Yes, ma’am.”

            With that, she turned around, walking back inside with Garchomp. 

            Her server stood by the window with a few others, most dispersing before she could take notice of the small crowd.  The young woman had a huge grin on her face.  “That was the most incredible shutdown I think I’ve ever seen in my life– I– Inspirational, really.”

            She smiled, carefully making her way back to her table.  “I just hope he learned the consequences of not taking no for an answer.” As she resumed her seat, she took the last sip of her drink. 

            “Can I get you some more coffee?”  she asked. 

            Looking up at her, she nodded.  “That would be wonderful, thank you.”

            She returned the gesture, taking her empty cup with her. 

            Garchomp made a small laughing noise as she settled back down on the cool stone floor. 

            Cynthia tapped her with her foot, but said nothing.  Looking to her phone, there was still plenty of time before she had to be at the studio at noon. 

 

 

            In the heart of Castelia City, the complex took up the entire block Cynthia was now standing at the corner of.  Tall walls directed foot traffic towards the different entrance gates, and while the buildings inside the walls seemed to be large, they were dwarfed by all the surrounding skyscrapers.       

            Instructed to enter at the southern gate, Cynthia stood at the edge of the sidewalk, Garchomp still at her side.  Her body was pressed to her side in an attempt to ease some of her anxiety. 

            With a deep breath, her nerves were as calm as they were going to be, and hopefully after a few days, there would be enough of a rhythm to where her anxiety wouldn't bother her nearly as much. 

            A thank you to Garchomp for her support, Cynthia recalled her pokémon, and began to make her way towards the gate. 

            She was immediately flagged down by the gate attendant.  A burly, but older man, his short hair starting to grey at the sides.  With him, an equally old Emolga sat on his shoulder, the fur on its ears starting to grey. 

            “Hi there! The name’s Warren!” he greeted.  He looked at her, a sheepish grin on his pale face.  “While I already know who you are, I’m required to see an ID.”

            She grabbed her wallet out of her messenger bag, pulling the card out of its sleeve.  “Sure thing,” she said, handing it over to him. 

            He maybe glanced at it for all of one second before giving it back.  “Alright, miss Cynthia,” he said, turning his body towards the row of buildings.  “You’re gonna make your way down to building C3, here on the right.  When you walk in there’ll be a front desk area.  I’m pretty sure they told me Li will be able to direct you where to go and whatnot.  She’s a tiny little woman, you can’t miss her.”  He paused for a second to laugh to himself.  “Though, I guess next to you everyone is pretty tiny.”

            She forced a laugh, having heard something similar nearly her entire life.  “Pretty much.”

            “Anyways, have a nice day, miss Cynthia.”

            She said nothing else, walking away with a nod. 

            Like the rest of the city, the area was charged with a noticeable energy.  People and pokémon bustled around, small vehicles transporting props between buildings zipped up and down the roads. 

            The buildings all looked the same, save for the different colored awnings that had the building numbers on them.  C3 was a soft yellow. 

            Inside, the lobby was plain.  Distantly she could hear movement about the building.  Behind the front desk, an incredibly fat Audino sat in a chair, making a soft cooing noise as Cynthia approached. 

            “Oh my stars, you might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” It was a struggle to keep her voice from going too far into a baby-voice. 

            The pokémon giggled, smooshing his cheeks with his paws. 

            Before she could say anything else, the sound of shoes against the concrete floor caught her attention.  A short woman with long black hair and red-framed glasses walked in the room, a smile on her face the second her eyes caught Cynthia’s.  “Oh!  Good!  You’re here early!  I’m Li!” she introduced, quickly rushing to Cynthia to offer her hand. 

            Relief washed over her as she took her hand in a quick shake.  “I’m Cynthia.  I was told to look for you,” she said. 

            She nodded, taking her hand back to tuck her hair behind her ear.  “Yes!  If you’ll give me one second,” she said, walking back behind the desk.  She moved the rolling chair the Audino was sitting on, searching for something on the shelves below.  After a few seconds, she pulled out a beige folder. 

            Ruffling the Audino’s head, she walked back over to Cynthia, handing her the folder.  “This is just a physical copy of the schedule for the week, your call times for the week, as well as all the addresses for other filming locations.  Do you have your copy of the script?” she asked. 

            She placed a hand over her messenger bag.  “Yes.”

            “Alright.  Would you like me to show you around real quick to get a feel for the building?” she asked.

            She seemed to know exactly what to ask before Cynthia could even request it.  “That would be wonderful, thank you.”

            She smiled at her, glancing over at the Audino.  “Keep watching the desk for me, okay, Oscar?”

            He nodded, giving her a little thumbs up. 

            Walking beside the short woman, Cynthia made sure to keep a detailed mental log of where everything was.  Different areas were sectioned off by numbers, making everything pretty easy to remember.  There was a formal meeting room that was also a break room, and a whole area that was sectioned off for the lead talents.  Her makeup room and wardrobe were in the same area.   
            Li then gave her a general explanation of everything.  Most, if not all, of the green screen scenes would be filmed here, as well as a lot of indoor scenes.  There were a few outdoor desert scenes that would be filmed off location out along Route Four, and the bar scenes were all going to be filmed in Nimbasa City. 

            “Oh, and while I'm thinking about it, are you going to be using a pokémon to fly here at all?” Li asked. 

            “Yes, I’m planning on flying in with my Braviary.” She figured it was best to not get into specifics. 

            She grabbed her phone from her pocket, pulling up the messenger app.  “I’ll make sure to have a flight pass for you before you leave.  It will just make sure you don't set off any alarms when over the buildings.”

            That surprised Cynthia.  “I didn’t realize security was taken that seriously.”  Warren had seemed so lax, she just assumed everybody else was the same way.

            Li nodded.  “Because of talent like yourself and Diantha, and even a few others, it’s just a way to make sure no crazy fans get in and harass anybody.”

            Cynthia said nothing in response, figuring it made enough sense for her.

            They ended back at the meeting room, where many other cast and crew members had already gathered, including Diantha. 

            “Alright, miss Jenness, if there’s anything you need just let me know, or any of the other PA’s that are going to be running around all day.”

            “Thank you so much, Li.”

            With that she was off, likely to head back to her fat Audino that Cynthia had hardly stopped thinking about. 

            Walking around the room, she kept herself at a distance, unsure of where to even begin introducing herself. 

            Without meaning to, her eyes kept being drawn back to Diantha, who milled about the people, greeting everyone with a great familiarity. 

            For a moment, she allowed herself to feel envious, wishing she could just will herself to go up to people like that.  Under most other circumstances, she could.  Talking to people from other leagues had never been a challenge, because they always had the common ground of pokémon battles. 

            From what she could overhear around her, everyone seemed to be talking about other projects, and everything was film related.  There was nothing to the conversations she could add.  She was just someone who got incredibly lucky with her role. 

            “Cynthia!” 

            Glancing over at the mention of her name, she saw Diantha motioning with her hand to join her. 

            Despite still being on thin ice with her, she walked over.  She needed an in, and Diantha was about as good of an in as she could get. 

            At her side, she gestured towards the two men standing with her.  “Cynthia, this is Michael Garcia, he plays William.”

            Her offered her his hand.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cynthia,” he said. 

            “Likewise,” she said with a quick shake.  Giving her attention to the other man, she felt herself wanting to take a step back. 

            Diantha continued.  “And this is Alexander Hayes.  He’s Charles.”

            He also offered her his hand, and she prayed nobody noticed her hesitation.   There was something off about the entire situation, however, he hadn’t even said a word, and nothing about his body language was outwardly threatening.  There was just something about him that was very off-putting to Cynthia. 

            “Also a pleasure to meet you,” he greeted.  “But please, just call me Alex.”

            “Noted,” she said, taking the smallest of steps back. 

            Diantha seemed completely comfortable around him, leading her to chastising herself for overreacting to what was probably nothing.  She was anxious from being around so many people she had little in common with.  Telling herself she was on edge for no reason, she did her best to force herself to not think about it. 

            Alex returned his attentions to Diantha.  “You know, I would say I’m a little heartbroken over what Scarlet’s going to do to poor Charles, but–“ he glanced at Cynthia giving her a very quick look over that left her skin crawling “–can’t say I exactly blame her,” he joked. 

            Diantha was quick to divert the conversation in a different direction.  “I’m just sorry we’ll be killing off William so soon,” she said. 

            He laughed, running a hand through his short black hair.  “I mean, any other project I might be disappointed, but I get to do crew work once we’re done filming with him, so I'm excited for that!” 

            They continued talking, and amidst it all, Cynthia excused herself to go back to standing off to the side.  There was nowhere for her to contribute, since they all already knew one another.  Third wheel didn’t even begin to cover the feeling.

            She looked around, doing her best to put together who everyone was.  Most people had already sectioned themselves off.  From what little she could overhear, the camera crew had all gathered together, as well as many of the other actors.  Before she could think to maybe at least introduce herself to some of them, she felt a presence at her side. 

            Looking over, Diantha had come to stand with her.  “I take it you’re feeling out of place?” she asked.

            Begrudgingly, she nodded.  “Not having a background of any sort in film is…making this difficult, admittedly.”  She wasn't sure why she was telling any of that to Diantha.  She didn’t need to prove her right on not having any idea of what she got herself into.

            Diantha thought of what to say that might comfort her.  While, sure, Cynthia was definitely overthinking things, simply telling her that wouldn't absolve any of her anxieties. 

            She had wanted an excuse to get away from Alex.  While she tended to be guilty of being a touchy person, she at least liked to think she was good at reading when a person wasn’t okay with it.  Alex lacked that and had quickly begun to bother her. 

            Walking Cynthia around was a perfect excuse. 

            “Would you like me to introduce you?  Thankfully, I still remember most of the camera operators, and a lot of the other crew that’s going to be involved,” she offered.  It would also be a good opportunity to get to know a few of the newer actors as well. 

            Cynthia thought it over, and despite how much she wanted to refuse her help in all capacities, she knew better than to risk causing a scene.  She would keep her guard up, but allow Diantha to walk her around.   

            Envy quickly caught back up with Cynthia as they were greeted with smiles, and she told herself they were all really directed at Diantha.  She was so bright and charismatic; it was no wonder people were just drawn to her. 

            They had made it through most of the crew when a young woman entered the room, wheeling in a cart of poké balls. 

            Diantha brought her and Cynthia to a stop.  “Oh, they’re doing this much earlier than last time,” she commented. 

            “Who is she?” Cynthia asked. 

            “That is Camila Gayle.  She is the handler for all the acting pokémon.  Last time they didn’t introduce us to our pokémon until we started filming,” she explained. 

             She was a slender woman with light brown skin, and medium-length hair that was so dark green it was almost black.  On her shoulder sat a Pansage, silently observing everyone around them.   

            “If I could have everyone’s attention,” she called out, standing in the middle of the room. She waited for the room to fall into silence before continuing, looking down at the clipboard in her hands.  “If it’s alright with everyone, I’m just going to call out character names.  If we could start with Scarlet and Elizabeth!”

            They began to walk towards her.  “At least with my middle name being Elizabeth, responding to that name is going to be no problem,” Cynthia said offhandedly. 

            Diantha grinned at her.  “But are you like me and you tend to panic when you hear your middle name? I only ever heard mine when I was in trouble.”

            She laughed lightly.  “Only when combined with my first name.”  She heard it plenty of times throughout her childhood, and could still hear her grandmother’s voice saying it. 

            Atop the tray were two luxury balls, and two standard poké balls.  Camila had her hand hovering over the luxury balls.  “Alright,” she began, now speaking at a casual volume.  “For Scarlet we have two Kirlia, Kivalina and King,” she said, tapping the two capsules to release them. 

            The two psychic pokémon came out with gleeful calls, their eyes lighting up at the sight of Diantha.

            She immediately dropped to her knees, opening her arms to the two pokémon.  “So good to see you again, my darlings!” 

            Much to her chagrin, the sight of the two pokémon jumping into her arms brought a smile to Cynthia’s face.  She looked up to Camila for her pokémon. 

            “And for Elizabeth we have Stirling the Klinklang, and Tango the Watchog.” 

            Both pokémon were not ones Cynthia had ever worked with.  She had battled a few in her days, but was unfamiliar with their moves and overall battling abilities. 

            Klinklang whirled around mechanically, taking up a large swath of space, each gear interlocking to make the softest of clicks.  Its expression was hard for Cynthia to figure out, so she wasn’t sure if they were happy to be around her or not.  Hopefully she would figure out its…body…language soon enough.  At the very least, she would make sure to look up articles that would help her better understand the pokémon. 

            Watchog, on the other hand, was a completely different story.  The second he was out of his capsule, he was all over Cynthia.  He walked circles around her, sniffing her as much as possible.  His coat was in pristine condition, and he stood nearly at height with her hips.

            “Sorry,” Camila apologized, giving a loud snap of her fingers.  Watchog stood tall, zipping back over to her.  “Watchog have a very good sense of smell, and he just wants to know where you’ve been to learn about you.” 

            She laughed lightly, taking a knee to offer her hand out to the pokémon.  “It’s quite alright,” she said. 

            Watchog walked back over, putting his cold nose on her palm, chittering softly as she scratched his chin. 

            Klinklang floated down to her, spinning at a slower pace. 

            Diantha looked up to Cynthia from her spot on the floor.  “They’re just darlings,” she commented, smiling as Watchog decided to come over to her.  Both Kirlia in her arms giggled as the other pokémon began to sniff them over. 

            Cynthia looked over to her, smiling at the sight of the tall pokémon making circles around her now.  “I take it you worked with them on that last episode?” she asked, now looking at the Kirlia. 

            She nodded.  “Yes.  They stand in for one another, but are also technically a part of the reveal that Scarlet doesn’t have a single Kirlia, but two, a male and female.”  She looked back up to Camila.  “Speaking of, aren’t we supposed to be working with a Gallade, too?” she asked. 

            She mumbled a yes, looking over her clipboard.  “He’s not going to be here until around the end of filming.  His trainer is only letting us have him for the needed scenes.”  She then looked down to the two women.  “But okay, for now, you all can get to know one another.  If they get to be too much–“ she directed that comment at Watchog “–feel free to put them back in their balls.” With that, she left the two women, working her way around the rest of the cast. 

            The ground was starting to get too hard for Cynthia’s knees.  Standing up, she stepped over to offer Diantha a hand. 

             She told herself it was only to keep up a good front while around everyone. 

            “Thank you, darling,” Diantha said, mindful of the two Kirlia hopping off her lap.  She tugged on her hand a bit before letting go.  “Let’s go sit somewhere more proper,” she offered. 

            Back against the wall, the two sat together on a well-worn loveseat.  Both Kirlia instantly hopped back into her lap, and Watchog eagerly climbed onto the sofa, sprawling out across Cynthia’s lap. 

            Cynthia laughed through her nose, running a hand down his sleek coat.  She then looked over to Diantha, who had her attention on the Kirlia.  Cynthia had already forgotten which on was which.  “So, I’m assuming your Gardevoir is filling the role?” she asked, figuring it was best to keep some form of communication going. 

            She nodded, taking her eyes off the Kirlia.  “Yes, it’s actually her big debut!”

            That took Cynthia by surprise.  “She hasn’t appeared in anything until now?” she asked.  She had assumed with how well known Diantha was, her pokémon would have appeared in a few films by now.

            “No, I’ve purposely waited as long as I have to have her appear in anything with me.”  She paused, realizing she needed to correct herself.  “Though, I mean, she has appeared in advertisements with me.  Clothing lines, league advertisements, and a perfume that hasn’t come out yet, but I refuse to actually wear,” she said, lowering her voice and returning her attention to Kivalina.  “But she’s never been in a tv show or movie with me until now.”

            Cynthia laughed lightly.  “You advertised a perfume you don’t actually like?”

            She didn’t look up as she spoke.  “I’ll just be honest with you and say it was a quick project, and they agreed to an upfront paycheck rather than a percentage of sales.  Which is probably for the best since the perfume…wasn’t to my taste.”  

            She couldn't resist.  “I mean, it is perfume, you’re not supposed to taste it.” Watchog laughed under her palm. 

            She gave her a pointed look that was mirrored by both Kirlia.  “You know what I mean,” she bit back.  She then laughed lightly.  “It smelled like a little old lady.  It reminded me too much of my grandmother.”  The complimentary bottle she had received sat somewhere, “forgotten”, back home in Kalos. 

            She said nothing in response, only laughing through her nose.  While simple, the visual was more than enough to tell her she wouldn't like the perfume either.  Granted, she was incredibly picky when it came to fragrances anyways.  

            As they sat together, the chipper call of a pokémon caught Diantha’s attention, and as the excited pokémon in question came into view, it got Cynthia’s as well.

            The Kirlia in her arm mirrored her smile.  “Hello, darling!”

            The approaching Braixen grinned at Diantha, stopping to look over Cynthia. 

            “Cynthia, this is Elle.”  She looked up in time to see Alex walking towards them.  “She’s Charles’s pokémon.”

            He was laughing to himself, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.  “Sorry.  She saw you, Diantha, and went running.”

            She laughed lightly, running a hand over Braxien’s head.  “It’s quite alright.  I was hoping to get to see her anyways.”

            He took it as in invitation to join them, taking a seat on the arm of the sofa.

            Diantha found herself moving closer to Cynthia, the couch suddenly seeming much smaller than before. 

            “So, Cynthia!  How you enjoying being in Unova?” he asked.

            She shrugged, looking down at Watchog before back up at him.  “It’s nice.  I’ve spent a lot of time here before, researching the mythos of the weather trio, and so it’s good to be back.”

            He nodded along.  “Oh, so you’re a researcher?”

            “Yes.”

            They talked about that for a while, the subject familiar enough with Cynthia she found it easier to keep conversation going.  Eventually, Alex left them, and she could see that Diantha was relieved to have the other end of the sofa back to herself. 

            Camila then came around to collect the pokémon, explaining when they would be on set and other little details. 

            By the time she had finished that up, a crew member was calling everyone to come sit around the table to begin the script read, where others had already taken seats. 

            “Since you and I are leading talents, we’ll sit closer to the head of the table,” Diantha informed, walking over with her. 

            They took spots across from one another, Alex sitting next to Diantha, and Michael at Cynthia’s side. 

            Papers flew about the room, along with light chatter. 

            Cynthia grabbed for her script, digging around her bag for the pen that had gotten loose from its hold. 

            Scratching the pen against the corner of the script, she could practically feel her soul leaving her body as it refused to write.  Looking back into her bag, she couldn’t find anything else to write with. 

            The day was just determined to take as many little punches as possible. 

            Silently, a blue pen was placed in front of her. 

            Looking up, the grin on Diantha’s face as she leaned back down into her chair was enough to upset her. 

            “It’s your first time,” she reminded. 

            She didn’t need the reminder.  “Thanks,” she said.  While she was at least a little thankful, she couldn’t help but think Diantha was just enjoying watching her flounder. 

            A large man came walking into the room.  He wore a buttoned up black cardigan that was a little too tight for his size, but carried with him an air that said he didn’t care.  His pale face was covered in a thick and dark hair, but his head was shaved clean. 

            The woman who walked in with him was laughing at something, covering her mouth with her hand.  She was also a large and imposing woman, but she didn’t carry the air of superiority that the man seemed to.  She had a slight farmer’s tan going on, and her brown hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. 

            Together, the two stood at the head of the table, waiting for the room to quiet down. 

            “Alright!” The man began, clapping his hands together.  “Let’s get things started, shall we?  For those of you who I haven’t gotten around to yet, my name is Tom Sharpe.  I’m the director for this project.  This–“ he gestured to the woman next to him “–is Lita Paterson, she is my assistant director.  We both worked on the original episode, and we’re thrilled to be here again.”         

            Lita nodded.  “Likewise.  It’s great getting to work with a bunch of the same people.”  Judging by her accent, Cynthia could tell she was from somewhere in the Galar region.  “If you’re new I’ll be sure to get around to you and give you a proper introduction before filming starts,” she said, eyes lingering on Cynthia for an extra second. 

            She then gestured to the first few people around the table.  “Today with us we have John Rheed, one of our producers.”

            The man leaned forward, only allowing Cynthia a brief glance at him.  A middle-aged white man with greying hair. 

            Lita then looked at the other side of the table.  “And we even have Blair Dreadfulwater, the lead writer for this script with us!”

            This was someone Cynthia actually knew about.  While not much, it was more than probably anyone else.  Their surname had caught her attention, so they –along with Tom– were one of the few she allowed herself to do a little research on. 

            They had written for a lot of original series over at Natuflix, but somewhere along the way they were convinced to go write for Hupa.  From the titles that she remembered, most, if not all, had at the bare minimum gay subtext. 

            They waved their hand quickly, nothing more than a quick light brown flicker, but didn’t meet anyone’s eyes, their curly brown hair falling in their face. 

            Tom pointed at someone away from the table before continuing talking.  “So, I figured before we get into anything it would be a good idea to give a quick listen to the song that inspired this episode.  I also figured it might be a good idea to give everyone their own copy of the album, just in case.”

            As he said it, a person walking around the table placed something in front of Cynthia. 

            The black and white album covered was face up with the pop star’s name printed all across the right side of her face on the cover. 

            She knew of the lead single, having heard it on the radio plenty of times, but she couldn’t name a single song other than that one off the album. 

            She thought about giving the CD a proper listen, but she quickly realized she didn’t have access to a CD player.  Memory told her that the stereo in Caitlin’s villa was able to play CDs, but she didn’t know whether or not to actually trust that memory. 

            Making a mental note of it, she’d get to it if she remembered. 

            “So, how many copies of the album do you have now?” Cynthia heard from just behind Diantha’s side of the table.  Two of the PA’s were standing next to each other against the wall.  Two young girls who were maybe only twenty years old. 

            There was a laugh as the other began to count on her fingers.  “I did the digital copy so I would get it the night it all was released, then the two from the magazines I got, and then I didn’t realize those magazines were going to have physical CD’s in them so I got another…so five, now.”

            The other girl laughed, putting a hand on her arm. 

            Cynthia did her best to not react in any way, but couldn’t completely suppress her amusement.  She wouldn't say she felt strongly one way or the other about the pop star, but it was clear that there was at least one big fan in the room. 

            As the person handing out all the CDs neared the end of the table, Tom began to talk again.  “We have full usage rights for the song, but we’re planning on just using the rhythm and whatnot.  No vocals, but the rest of the song will be playing during the final credits.” 

            He and Lita took a seat at the head of the table as the PA then began setting up the speakers to play.  In a short few seconds, the gave a thumbs up, ready to begin. 

            The song started off at too low a volume, the PA scrambling to adjust to something more audible. 

_“I wanted to leave him // I needed a reason”_

            It was by pure happenstance that Cynthia looked up to Diantha as the line passed.  Still being so early in the song, she wanted to see how everyone around her was taking things, but it was Diantha’s reaction that caught her attention.  It was subtle, so maybe she was misinterpreting it.  She wasn’t too familiar with her, after all. 

            To her, the look was of realization. 

            But as to what she might be realizing, Cynthia wasn’t sure. 

            Then, from behind her, she took notice of the two PAs again.  Mouthing along to the song, the girl, who Cynthia was just going to refer to as Five CDs until she figured out her actual name, was thoroughly enjoying herself.  The other PA was looking away from her, feigning embarrassment. 

            She was almost too entertaining for her own good. 

            Soon enough the song came to an end, the music being stopped before it had a chance to continue onto the next. 

            Cynthia wasn’t too sure how the imagery of old, western-esque, Unova came to mind with the song.  The only thing that might have made her think of it was the Bonnie and Clyde reference, but other than that, she wasn’t sure. 

            Tom leaned forward, looking down at Blair.  “So, why don’t you tell us a little about how this all came together, Blair?”

            They nodded, but continued to not meet anyone eyes, more talking to the table.  “Sure!  Really, I just, admittedly, loved that song the second I heard it.  About two mornings after hearing it, I woke up in basically a cold sweat at like…I want to say 4:32 in the morning, on the dot, with this story in mind.  It was instantly a continuation for Scarlet.  I wanted her to leave Charles and William.  Both were her getaway cars, one more literal than the other, but then!  I realized, no!  She’s not about to drop things for some other crusty dude– no offense!” they said quickly, their palm towards Alex and Michael. 

            Both men chuckled at the jab. 

            They continued, still talking fast.  “I kept seeing a beautiful woman who ended up in her life and just turned everything upside down.  Plus, she drove a cool car!” 

            Briefly, Cynthia wondered if it had been Blair who insisted on her filling the role. 

            Lita nodded, looking down the table.  “So, while we’re doing the read through today, if you have any questions about dialogue choices, or need any clarification on anything, Blair is here to answer.”

            They nodded. 

            Tom scooted forward in his chair.  “Now, I’ll narrate all the actions and whatnot.  This is just going to be a straight read, so no worries on getting things completely into character.”  He looked down to Diantha, but she was already aware of what he was going to say to her. 

            “Diantha, if it’s too much to jump straight into Scarlet’s voice, feel free to not even worry about it right now.”

            She gave him a look of mock offense.  “I think I will manage just fine, thank you.”

            It earned a chuckle from those around her, but for a second, Cynthia couldn't shake the sheer confusion. 

            She hadn’t been told that the character she would be playing would have any sort of voice.  She was to speak as she always did.  However, she also hadn’t been told that Scarlet wouldn't sound like Diantha. 

            Though, sure, it sounded like her.  If she were to suppress her accent completely to sound as though she were from Unova instead of Kalos. 

            She was starting to regret not watching that first Red Dawn episode. 

            Something about it completely threw Cynthia to the point of not even realizing that Tom had already begun to narrate.  Thankfully, it was going to be a while before her character had to even speak. 

            The beginning parts of the read were easy enough.  Already it was helping her get a proper feel for pacing when it came to dialogue, and hearing most of the casts voice was helping things come together in her mind better. 

            Just as she dared to think that maybe things wouldn’t be so bad, came the shift in the story of when Scarlet and Elizabeth’s interest in one another was treading into outright flirting.  She was quickly realizing how often she was going to have her hands on Diantha.  Some of the actions were casual and innocuous enough, but the further they got into the script, Cynthia found herself fidgeting in her seat. 

            She decided to take a note from Blair and only look down at her script, and not up at anyone.  While it was probably clear that she was feeling flustered, she didn’t need the added anxiety of looking at anyone. 

            If nothing else, at least Tom was good at narrating with a straight face.  “Scarlet stops in her tracks, grabbing Elizabeth’s arm before she can make any other move.”

            “Don’t think that for even a second I don’t want that Elizabeth, but…” Diantha spoke.

            “Elizabeth moves in closer,” Tom narrated.

            “But?” Cynthia asked.

            “She shakes her head, but tries to walk away.  Just as she slips out of her grasp, Elizabeth pulls her back into a rough kiss, pushing her up against the wall.  Lipstick stains her lips.  Kissing her neck, Scarlet pulls away again.  This time Elizabeth doesn’t stop her.”

            Diantha took a bit of a shaky breath.  “Give me time, Elizabeth…I just need time.”

            Tom continued.  “Elizabeth watches Scarlet hesitate in the doorway before exiting.  Shrugging to herself, Elizabeth wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and heads back into main part of the bar.  While waiting for her drink, she looks at the back of her hand, where the camera will focus on the smear of red.  Fade out.”

            Cynthia flipped the page, keeping her other hand clenched atop her thigh.  It was going to be a long day…

            By the end of it, Cynthia found herself thoroughly embarrassed.  There was another feeling in the mix somewhere, but it was one she wasn’t even about to acknowledge.  She’d sooner get hit square in the face than admit to what the feeling was. 

            She had her instructions for the next day, and had made sure she had all the other papers that were given to her tucked into her messenger bag.  For now, it was all she was going to be able to handle for the day, so she made sure to make a quick exit, stopping only to get her flight pass from Li. 

            She wasn’t sure if hanging out with her costars was a thing that was allowed, or expected.  Regardless, she had decided well over an hour ago that she was going to leave as soon as possible, avoiding as many people as possible. 

            All she wanted to do was get back to her hotel and not think about having to do another read through tomorrow. 

            Outside, she stood at the edge of the building’s terrace, letting the cool evening air wash over her.  While it was only six pm Unova time, she found herself wishing it was earlier so she could call her sister and tell her how things had gone.  Surly she would be able to make light of the whole situation. 

            As she went to reach for Braviary’s poké ball, her phone began to vibrate in her pocket.  It reminded her that it had done so about an hour earlier, but they were still in the middle of going over script questions so she couldn't answer it. 

            Pulling it out, she smiled at the contact name. 

            “Hi, Caitlin,” she answered. 

            _“Hello, Cynthia.”_   She always spoke with such a light voice, like she was perpetually tired.  But more in the cute way, not the exhausted, “nobody come near me” way.  _“How’s filming coming along?”_ she asked.

            While she desperately wanted to talk about it, she didn’t have that kind of relationship with her.  Theirs was a very formal one, and it was probably best that they kept it that way.  “It’s…different, that’s for sure.”

            _“I would imagine so– oh! But before I forget!  I was calling to let you know that I have some good news on my Undella rental.”_

            She could always use some good news.  “Oh?”

            _“I had a cancellation, so once I send in my cleaner, it should be all ready for you by tomorrow night.  I’ll text you when I have an exact time.”_

            On her exhale, she felt the tension from the day leave her body for just a few seconds.  “Caitlin, you’re an absolute lifesaver.”

            She laughed lightly on her end.  Though, it was probably the only way she laughed. 

            “So, do I owe you anything?  I never got a clear answer on how much they paid you.”  She was willing to pay just about anything for the luxury of her own space.  Or at least, something that was akin to her own space more than a hotel was. 

            There was a yawn on her end.  _“Actually, between you and me, I charged…uh…I’m blanking on who exactly paid me, but I charged the filming company, or whoever, my normal rate, not the discount I give you.  You don’t have to worry about anything.”_

            That came as a surprise, but maybe it shouldn't have.  Despite how lax a person Caitlin was, she was probably far more business savvy than Cynthia gave her credit for. 

            Walking out of the building a few moments later, Diantha caught the last few words of the conversation Cynthia was having on the phone. 

            “Thank you again so much, Caitlin…Oh, don’t worry.  I’ll definitely let you know if I want any company…Bye.”

            Diantha found herself wondering who this Caitlin person was.  Whoever they were, there was a smile on Cynthia’s face, and she was visibly at ease when talking to her.  It was a stark contrast from how she had been earlier as she was practically inching towards the door the last few minutes they were meeting. 

            Before she could call out to her at all, Cynthia released a large Braviary.  Diantha knew them to be large pokémon, originally bred for war here in Unova, but even hers was noticeably large. 

            She stood in silence, watching Cynthia slip the flight pass over Braviary’s neck before climbing onto the pokémon.  There was something powerful about watching the bird stretch out their grand wings. 

            They took off to the skies just in time for Alex and Michael to join her out on the terrace. 

            The two men were laughing with one another.  Alex spoke to her first.  “Diantha, please tell me you caught how red her face was getting towards the end there.”

            At that, she laughed along.  “I can’t say I exactly blame her.  This is all…a lot for her first time acting.”  She, however, had been able to excellently hide all her own embarrassment.  She had mastered that poker face a long time ago.  While Cynthia had stumbled through a few of the raunchier lines, she had spoken it all with calculated ease. 

            She just hoped that Cynthia would have it all under control by the time they had to film those scenes. 

            “Can you believe she’s getting paid about as much as you, though?” Michael asked, standing next to her. 

            That she wasn’t aware of.  “Is she?” She wondered how he would know any of that.  She wasn’t even aware of how much anyone other than herself was getting paid.  Then again, she always made sure to never look for that information.  She didn’t like the potential path of greed it could lead her down. 

            “It’s what I heard.  Casting director and producers got so sold on having two champions in one episode that they got desperate for her to say yes to being Elizabeth.  She’s basically getting paid just as much as you– as a nobody!” he continued.

            She wanted to believe him –and to also dispute her being a nobody because she was a _champion_ after all– but knowing how much her paycheck was going to be, she found it incredibly unlikely that someone so new to the game would be receiving even half of what she was.  “Question, dear: How much are you assuming I'm getting paid?”

            He seemed to stumble a bit at that, but Alex came to his rescue, standing at her other side. 

            “You’re a known talent, and the lead role, so that means you’re going to have the biggest check out of all the actors.  However, I know you’re not getting paid a full million since I’m getting paid pretty decently.  If you were, we would have been shafted.  I’m figuring not half a million if Cynthia getting paid the same, for the same shafting reasons.  So,” he paused, motioning his hands around as if he were juggling the numbers.  “Anywhere between two fifty and four hundred K.”

            She couldn’t resist a laugh.  He was in the ballpark, but she wasn’t fond of sharing the exact numbers with people.  “While we could talk numbers all night, I distinctly remember both of you pestering me to get dinner.  Shall we?” she asked, taking the first steps down towards the sidewalk. 

            Michael kept pace with her, Alex falling in on her other side. 

            She had been frustrated all day, because while they had been pestering her to get together, neither of them could come to a decision of where to go.  Meaning, she couldn't look up a menu ahead of time, which was incredibly upsetting for her. 

            For now, she would shove the feeling down, so long as the topic of her pay was dropped, and try to enjoy the night for what it was. 

 

 

            Thankfully, the following day was nothing more than a script read.  With final questions and clarifications from Blair, there was nothing else planned for the day.  Official filming would start the next day, but until then, the day was Cynthia’s.

            Caitlin told her the villa would be ready by four, so she still had two hours until then. 

            With all of that in mind, Cynthia set out on foot to walk around the city for a while.  At the very least, it would help clear her mind of how the script read went. 

            Things had gone far better than the previous day.  Knowing what to expect, and how it was to say her lines aloud to a room full of people rather than just her acting coach, she did a better job of compartmentalizing her feelings. 

            Once out of the gate, with a quick wave to the security guard, she walked to the corner of the street, trying to make a decision of where to go from there.     

            While figuring that out, she reached for Zora’s poké ball, figuring now was a good of a time as any to let the pokémon see Castelia. 

            She appeared with a shake, looking eagerly to Cynthia.  Her ears twitched, angling around to listen to the sounds that surrounded her.  A grin broke across her face as she took in the tall buildings. 

            Together, the two began to walk the city, Cynthia enjoying watching her sister’s pokémon take in the sights.  She was in her element, and clearly remembered the city well.

            “We’ve got time to kill.  Anywhere you want to go?” she asked the pokémon.

            She nodded, taking a slight lead. 

            The anonymity that a large city provided was something Cynthia enjoyed.  Especially since the city they were in wasn’t her home region.  Here, the chances of running into someone who would recognize her was much smaller than anywhere in Sinnoh. 

            Half an hour had passed, and after much ducking her head into alleyways she must have frequented as a Zorua, Zora brought them towards the piers. 

            Across the busy street, she could see the destination the pokémon had in mind: a Castelia cone stand. 

            She laughed through her nose, putting a hand on her sister’s pokémon.  “Can’t say I’m going to say no.”  It might be more concerning if she ever did say no to her favorite sweet. 

            Zora grinned wide, likely having anticipated her response. 

            Once paid for and out of the line, Zora wasted no time in downing her treat in one bite, licking her chops and claws of all bits of ice cream.  Cynthia laughed, putting her phone away.  “So much for sending a picture to Kay,” she said, walking with her towards one of the benches. 

            As far as Castelia went, the area was one of the few “quieter” places.  It was all relative, though.  The hustle and bustle of the city was going to be apparent just about anywhere she went. 

            Sitting down with Zora at her side, she pulled out her phone again, this time to call her sister. 

            After a few rings, she picked up. 

            _“Hey, Hollywood, what’s up?”_

            She tried to suppress a laugh.  “Oh, you know, living the dream.  Drowning my embarrassment from the script reads in Castelia cones.  The usual.”

            She laughed on her end.  _“I know you technically can’t give me details or anything, but that bad?”_

            “The last two days have really put into perspective how much I’m going to have to touch and kiss Diantha, and then have to look at her again at the international meeting like it was nothing.”  Saying it out loud only brought the heat back to her face. 

            Zora snickered beside her. 

            _“I mean, at least it’s Diantha.  She’s cute.  You could be smooching Alder.”_

            She visibly cringed at the thought.  “I mean, yeah, she is, she’s gorgeous –also kind of annoying– why did you have to make me think of that?”  He had always been a nice enough man, but he had been in his late fifties when he handed things over to Iris.  A definite no in her book.  

            She laughed again on her end.  _“Just reminding you that it could_ always _be worse, Cindy.”_

            She certainly wasn’t wrong…

 

 

– – – –

 

EXT. CAR GARAGE – DAY

The shop is located in the heart of the town.  Small and dusty, the air is always filled with particles of some sort.

Scarlet isn’t impressed, but Charles assures her that the person here will solve all their problems.  

CHARLES  
Trust me, Scarlet. I’ve heard nothing but good things about this person.  All of our problems are done for.  
We’re jet set from here on out. 

SCARLET  
You better hope so.  

Transition as they start walking in the building

 INT. CAR GARAGE – DAY

The interior is somehow even worse than the outside.  Dark and dingy, the smell of oil is thick in the air.  The lights are all faint, and most of the natural light is obstructed by filthy windows. Two cars sit in the room, and the soft sound of working can be heard.  

Scarlet shows visible disgust for the appearance of things. 

Charles calls out to someone in the main body of the shop. 

CHARLES  
Elizabeth! 

From between the two beat-up cars, a woman stands up.  ELIZABETH.  Tall, blonde, slender face, mid 20’s.  She’s covered in a layer of grime from working, and yet despite it, there’s still this ethereal quality about her.  Enough to catch Scarlet’s attention. 

Elizabeth wipes her hands on a dirty towel, stepping in front of the car. 

ELIZABETH  
So, you were serious? 

CHARLES  
Do I seem like the kind of man who would lie? 

She laughs, throwing the towel onto a table. 

ELIZABETH  
You are the man with a $10,000 bounty on his head.  I’m sure it comes with the territory.

 

CHARLES  
Fair point. 

He turns his body towards Scarlet. 

CHARLES (CONT'D)  
Scarlet, meet Elizabeth Park.  The answer to all our problems. 

Elizabeth steps around the car, motioning with her hand for her pokémon to join her.  A tall WATCHOG joins her, and a KLINKLANG isn’t far off. 

ELIZABETH  
Well, well, well.  The Kiss of Death herself.  It’s a pleasure to meet you. 

She extends a hand to Scarlet, who does not take it.  Instead, she merely looks over the grungy woman in front of her, and scoffs at her pokémon. 

SCARLET  
(To Charles)  
A woman with a Watchog?  You’ve got to be kidding me. 

ELIZABETH  
(laughs, taking her hand back)  
Think I’m not fast enough for you? 

SCARLET  
Hardly. 

ELIZABETH  
Trust me, babe.  If I’m not fast enough for you, I’ll turn myself in. 

Elizabeth motions for them to follow her.  She leads them to the back room with a different car.  Klinklang joins them, Watchog staying close at Elizabeth’s side. 

The car itself is very underwhelming.  It seems like every other car in the area. 

SCARLET  
Are you sure this thing is fast enough?  Looks like a hunk of junk, to me.  
(to Charles)  
No better than William’s, honestly. 

Elizabeth leans against the hood of the car, looking over the woman in front of her.  Charles might as well not even exist. 

ELIZABETH  
I’m not giving away my secrets until I actually have your trust. 

Scarlet returns the look over.  Begrudgingly, she likes what she sees, but isn’t about to admit it.  She sighs then looks to Charles.  

SCARLET  
She gets one shot.  
(to where only he can hear)  
And if she fails to impress me, you’re going the way of William. 

Charles laughs uncomfortably, taking a careful step back from her, much to Elizabeth’s amusement. 

SCARLET (CONT'D)  
Now get me out of here before the smell of oil soaks into my good coat. 

Scarlet and Charles begin to take their leave.  

ELIZABETH  
It’s been lovely, Kiss of Death. 

SCARLET  
I’ll return the sentiment once you’ve impressed me.   
(from over her shoulder)  
And know that I have very high expectations.

 – – – –

 

            Sitting in the dressing room that had been designated hers, Cynthia gripped the arms of the chair she was sitting in until her knuckles were white.  For the sixth or seventh time, her makeup person, Dezerea, told her to relax.  

            She was a pretty, young woman.  Long red hair in braids, and eyes of gold.  She wore bright makeup that contrasted nicely with her dark skin. 

            “Have you ever had anyone do your hair and makeup?” she asked, applying more of whatever it was to her cheeks that would give her a gungy look.  Cynthia disliked how much she could feel the makeup on her skin. 

            “I get help with my hair now and then, but I never let anyone do my makeup.  People being in my face that much flusters me,” she admitted.  This all was definitely far more flustering than getting put into her outfit.  The woman who was throwing clothes at her had a heavy Castelia accent, and was in her early fifties.  That was a quick and easy process.

            Having a pretty woman who was around her age in her face was flustering.  Having a fifty-year-old, grumpy, woman fussing over the length of her sleeves wasn’t. 

            Dezerea laughed, standing back to check her work.  “I get that, but trust me, Cynthia, I’m here to make you look good, and nothing else.” 

            A selfish part of her almost wished she was there to fluster her, but flirting with crew members was not something she wanted to be known for.  Then again, it’s not like she was going to stay in this career field, so would there be any harm? 

            “I appreciate it,” she lied. 

            Dezerea was silent for a while as she walked circles around Cynthia.  “I think you’re good,” she finally said.  

            Getting up, Cynthia turned around to look in the mirror.  Despite being freshly showered, she looked like she had just walked out of a long day in a mechanics shop, with her hair tied back, strands pulled out haphazardly, and stains of what convincingly looked and felt like grease smudged across her face. 

            Ironic, since she didn’t even know how to do an oil change.

            Though, the more she looked at her appearance, the more she felt the weight of all the makeup on her skin.  This was going to be fun to get off later.

            A head popped into the room.  “Cynthia, you’re up.”

            Dezerea smiled at her.  “Knock ‘em dead, champ.”

            “Thanks,” was all she managed.  She hoped her skills were up to par, and that this wouldn't end in complete disaster. 

            She had spent a good part of the night looking over the section they were filming for the day.  She was at least confident she could remember her lines.  She just hoped she could get the delivery right. 

            The PA walked her to set.  Cameras and lights filled the makeshift mechanics shop.  The two cars in the main area weren’t functional, but the car in the room they would walk to was.  So she had been told, anyways. 

            She had been given a tour of the set earlier, and had been left impressed with the set designers.  When the script called for Elizabeth’s car to be underwhelming, they delivered, and the rays of light that filtered in through the windows were shimmering with specks of dust. 

            “Alright,” Tom said, pointing at Cynthia the second she was in earshot.  “Cynthia, take your place with Watchog and Klinklang, and let’s get started!”

            Camila released the two mentioned pokémon, speaking to them briefly before sending them over to her.  Watchog eagerly made his way to Cynthia’s side, and Klinklang floated off to wait on the other side of the wall. 

            Down the “hall” Diantha and Alex waited. 

            Cynthia had yet to see Diantha in her Scarlet makeup.  Her hair was pulled back into a messy braid, and her clothes were conservative at best.  But even from across the room, Cynthia could see the bright red lipstick she was wearing. 

            Kneeling down with Tango between the two cars, Cynthia took notice of how he matched her.  Grease makeup was applied to his fur, turning his once pristine coat into a proper mechanic’s pokémon. 

            She couldn't resist giving him a quick scratch on the chin.  He lifted his head in delight. 

            “Quiet on set!” Lita called. 

            Everything fell into a hush, except for the sound of her heartbeat in her own ears. 

            Lita called the scene number and take one. 

            The distinct sound of a clapperboard filled the air, and with it, Cynthia’s own anxiety was skyrocketing to the point of feeling lightheaded. 

            Watchog placed a paw on her arm, but made no sound.  It brought her a small comfort. 

            At the sound of footsteps into the main area, and an audible grumble from Diantha, Tango took his paw back. 

            “Elizabeth!” 

            Taking her cue, she hauled herself up to try to look like she had been working on the car.  She refrained from speaking for a second, practically feeling the camera on her. 

            Reaching over for the towel on the bench, she wiped her hands as she stepped around the car.  “So, you were serious?” She asked, directing her attention at Alex.  Though, it was a little hard to ignore the way Diantha was now looking at her. 

            It was subtle, but the quick raise of her eyebrows and slow look over left her feeling warm.

            He grinned at her, shrugging his shoulders in a playful manner.  “Do I seem like the kind of man who would lie?”

            She laughed, trying her best to not react to how forced it had sounded.  She then threw the towel onto a different work bench. “You are the man with a $10,000 bounty on his head. I’m sure it comes with the territory.”

            He shoved a hand into one of his pants pockets.  “Fair point.”  He then turned towards Diantha, nodding his head in Cynthia’s direction.  “Scarlet, meet Elizabeth Park.  The answer to all of our problems.”

            Cynthia began to walk towards them, a last-second wave to Watchog for him to join her.  She had almost forgot the action bit. 

            He scurried over, Klinklang hovering into the main part of the room. 

            _“Cut!”_ Tom’s voice broke through the room, causing Cynthia to flinch.

            Lita spoke next.  “Can tell you almost forgot to call Watchog in.  Let’s try again!”

            Diantha laughed lightly to herself, which didn’t go over well with Cynthia.

            She walked with Watchog back between the cars, waiting for the set crew to move her towel back to its spot.  Something she found entirely pointless.  There was no reason she shouldn’t be moving something as simple as a hand towel back to its original spot. 

            Watchog patted her leg as she kneeled back down. 

            She wanted to be comforted by the gesture, but could only chastise herself for messing up right off the bat.

            “Alright, quiet on set.” After the hush, Lita followed it up with, “Take two!”

            On take two, things fared no better.  She ended up messing up sooner in the take, accidentally looking into the camera as it had focused on her. 

            Take three, she ended up smacking her hand against the car’s hood when she gestured for Watchog to join her, thoroughly embarrassing herself. 

            Tom called for a quick break, asking for “everyone” to look over their lines during it, which frustrated her.  It wasn’t the lines she was having trouble with.  Her lines were easy enough to remember, it was just having cameras so close by that was bothering her. 

            While pretending to read over her lines, she instead thought back on her month with her acting coach, trying desperately to remember if she ever gave her any advice on having cameras in her face.  Nothing came to mind. 

            From there, she thought to exhibition battles, and other televised battles she had throughout the years.  Cameras had been in her face at many of those events, and yet she couldn’t figure out why they didn’t bother her then.

            It was all a little too frustrating. 

            Many, _many_ , takes later, extra breaks, and a few failed attempts from Diantha to get Cynthia to just talk to her so she could try to understand her hang-up with the whole thing, Tom sat back in his chair, sighing heavily.  Lita stood next to him, and together, they talked quietly amongst themselves.  

            Diantha looked to the directors, quickly losing the ability to keep things together.  She was getting frustrated, and it wasn’t something that she often did.  Mistakes happened, lines would get messed up, props would get moved just off enough from their original spot that it would mess up the flow of things.  All were things that could be expected from day one of a production. 

            This, however, was becoming a bit much. 

            As she stepped forward to try once again to get Cynthia to talk to her –and she _refused_ to be brushed off again– Tom and Lita called for everyone’s attention. 

            “How about we call day one to an early end?  Go home, get some rest, and get those day one jitters out of the way.  Same call times and everything for tomorrow, alright?” Tom asked. 

            She nodded, the slightest grumble somewhere in there. 

            Alex nudged her.  “I know how you feel, but hopefully things’ll be better tomorrow.” 

            She wanted to nod along and agree with him, but the thing was, he _didn’t_ know how she felt.  He wasn’t the one who spent most of the day getting brushed off by Cynthia.  All she wanted to do was help, and offer advice.  She had plenty of mess ups, and had worked past all of them in one way or another.  She could help if Cynthia would just let her. 

            Instead, she would give her the cold shoulder, and hardly engage with her. 

            Pressing onward, she wanted to give it at least one last attempt.  Maybe they could work together one-on-one off set. 

            “Cynthia, talk to me, please,” she said, approaching her. 

            She looked down at her, and the grunginess of her appearance that she had found oddly attractive earlier was now coupled with obvious frustration.  She probably felt as every bit of the mess she looked. 

            She immediately tried to brush her off again.  “I really don’t want to– I.” She took a deep breath, beginning to walk away. 

            Diantha kept at her side.  “I’m just trying to help.  If you would just talk to me–”

            They had reached the hallway that lead off the set, back towards the changing rooms.  Nobody seemed to be around them, but even if they were, Cynthia couldn't be bothered to care in the moment.  Spending the entire day feeling like a failure left her with no patience. 

            Stopping in her tracks, she turned on Diantha.  “Well I don’t want your help!” she snapped. 

            Diantha’s hands balled into fists at her side. 

            “I just want to get all this fucking makeup off me so I can get out of here, and not have to think about any of this for a while, okay?  I don’t need your help at being an absolute disaster!”  She instantly regretted her words, remembering that it wasn’t just a movie star she was snapping at.  She was snapping at the Kalos champion.  Someone she would have to deal with again in the fall at the international meeting. 

            Diantha looked like she was ready to clap back, but at the last second seemed to think better of it. 

            Instead, she clasped her hands at her front softly.  “Fine.  I tried.”  She took a step back, needing to distance herself before she bit back with twice as much venom.  “I’ve only been at this since I was, oh, ten years old? But I guess my seventeen years of experience means nothing, right?  What do I know?”

            She turned around, intent on heading for her dressing room.  She was done dealing with the frost queen. 

            Cynthia’s shoulders slumped.  “Look, I–“

            Diantha turned on her heel, contempt written clear across her face.  “Save it.  Next time you speak to me I expect a better attitude.”  She turned away, not waiting for any kind of response. 

            She had expected so much better from her.  For years now she had wanted to get to know her, eyes always drawn to her during international meetings, no matter how much she chastised herself for it. 

            In that moment, she decided it was probably best that she never got to know her.  Knowing how much of a stubborn woman she could be would have just made the international meetings all the more frustrating.  Instead of having to pretend she wasn’t such a pleasant distraction, she would have had to pretend she wasn’t absolutely annoying.

            If Cynthia didn’t get booted before then, this was going to make later scenes much more frustrating, and not in the way she was anticipating them to be. 

            At the very least, she supposed, it would be no worse than all the men she had to kiss over the years of filming.

            Cynthia remained in her spot for a moment, watching her leave.  Her frustration with the day gave way to anger.  She had wanted to apologize for snapping, but Diantha cut her off before she could even begin to attempt to. 

            “She really is a diva, isn’t she?” she asked to nobody. 

            Rolling her eyes, she took off her for dressing room, somehow even more desperate than before to get the makeup off. 

            There, Dezerea was already waiting, a look of pity on her face.  It didn’t help her feel any better.  “Rough first days happen,” she said. 

            She sat down on the makeup chair, only then realizing how tense her whole body was.  She was going to have a headache soon enough from it. “Rough first days where you end up yelling at your costar to where she’s now probably pissed at you?” 

            She grimaced, walking up to her with a small bag of makeup remover wipes.  “Well,” she said, dragging it out.  She handed the bag to Cynthia.  “If you’ll wipe your face, I’ll get working on your hair,” she quickly said. 

            She did as instructed, reveling in the feeling of the cool wipe against her skin. 

            “So, okay, you've had an…extra rough day.  Got mad at each other, said some dumb things, and nobody apologized.”  Cynthia decided she had definitely overheard everything she said to Diantha.  “Tomorrow is a new day, Cynthia.  Surely it can only go up from here…”

 

 

            Unfortunately for Cynthia, it did not go up from there.  If it was even possible, it went further downhill. 

            The tension between her and Diantha was palpable to everyone on set, and now mess-ups were coming from both of them all morning.  Mistimed actions, tripping over nothing, delivering lines with the wrong inflection; name it and it went wrong. 

            By the middle of the day when they were set to break for lunch, tensions were high among everyone. 

            Diantha found herself ready to rip her own hair out at the number of retakes they had done.  Now that she was starting to share blame takes gone wrong, frustration didn’t even begin to describe her feelings surrounding everything. 

            Lita called cut, her tone indicating that she was at wits end. 

            Deciding that she didn’t care to hide anything anymore, Diantha sighed loudly as she began to walk off set. 

            Alex reached out for her, but she purposely walked fast enough to keep out of his grasp.  She didn’t need his input. 

            One of the PAs was quick to meet her, offering her the last of her bottle of water.  She snatched it from them a little too intensely.  “I don’t know why they’re putting me with a rookie like this!” It was louder than she had intended, but at that point, consequences be damned. 

            In a split-second decision, Cynthia decided she wasn’t going to ignore her.  She had heard every bit of it, and was so thoroughly done with everything that maybe getting out exactly how she felt would get her sent home.  “I can hear you, you diva!” she shot back. 

            The set around them fell into silence. 

            Diantha turned around, her braid whipping around dramatically, and her shoes making a screech on the floor.  “ _Excuse me?  I’m_ the diva?  Darling, I think you need to take a good look in the mirror!”  The thin plastic of the water bottle in her hand crunched loudly under her grasp. 

            Cynthia took a few steps towards her, only stopping when Watchog got in her way, making desperate chittering noises at her.

            “Look, I get you think you’re better than everyone here, and I get that you’re leagues ahead of me, but quit acting so high and fucking mighty!”

            Anger fueled her every step as Diantha looked to close the distance between them. 

            “Hey!”  Both Tom and Lita warned. 

            They were ignored, both women too angry with the other to even care. 

            Watchog did his best to keep some distance between them, clearly panicked because nobody on set was looking to get between them as well. 

            “Call me a diva all you like, I’ve heard far worse!” Diantha hissed. 

            Cynthia laughed in a mocking way.  “Yeah, sounds like with good reason!”

            “You know, Cynthia, I have done nothing but try to be nice to you!  After years of wanting to get to know you, I put aside all reservations I had about working with someone so new to filming.  It seems I should have voiced all of that sooner!  I tried so hard yesterday to help you, but you brushed me off at every given chance!”  She stepped forward, pointing a finger at her.  “All my anger and frustration is reactionary to how _absolutely stubborn_ you have been!  Call me a diva all you want, but I think it’s clear who the _real_ diva is.”

            At that point Cynthia almost had to remind herself to actively breathe.  Her whole body was wrapped in an angry flush. 

            Despite the anger, her voice was weak.  “You and I both know I’m not supposed to be here.”

            Diantha had wanted to ask if she had actually learned anything in the month she spent with an acting coach, or if she had just not paid any attention.  However, it was the quiet admission that put things into a new perspective for her. 

            It wasn’t that Cynthia hadn’t learned anything.  Maybe it didn’t start off this way, but it was undeniable at that point: she was self-sabotaging. 

            As she took a deep breath to steady herself, she noticed out of the corner of her eyes Lita making her way towards them. 

            Carefully, she put a hand up, motioning for her to stop, but kept her eyes on Cynthia.  Softly, she said, “Cynthia, let’s talk this out like two reasonable adults.  I don’t want to keep fighting with you.  Fighting will be productive for nobody.” And that was the truth of it all.  It was easy to be angry, sure, but she didn’t want to fight with Cynthia. 

            Lita stayed in her spot, watching closely for someone to make a move, and Watchog stayed firm in his spot. 

            Cynthia felt her shoulders slump, but was at a loss for words.  Desperately, she wanted to say something.  Anything.  But words refused her. 

            “Walk with me,” Diantha said with a wave of her hand. 

            She half expected Cynthia to ignore her and storm away, once again brushing her off, but to her surprise, she sighed.  “Fine,” she mumbled. 

            Watchog put his paws down, making a worried sound when Cynthia reached down to ruffle his head. 

            Diantha looked over to Lita.  “We will be back,” she said before walking off set with Cynthia. 

            As they left audible chatter began to fill back in…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can u believe this chapter was originally longer???? where this ends in the original chapter from NaNoWriMo was only a little over 6k.  
> i WANT to say the next chapter will be around 9k like in the original, but i make no promises lmao 
> 
> As always, thank you for your continued support!! It means the world to me. 
> 
> I hope wherever you are, the weather is nice and that you have a wonderful day!! 
> 
> -Tori
> 
> EDIT: 4/24  
> oh my g o d do u know how many frikkn tIMES i have accidentally written "william" when i meant to write "charles"'s name?????? so. many. times.  
> if i keep making that duMB mistake in the future, i am so sorry. it will get fixed. at some point lmao


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cynthia and Diantha move the fight.

         Down the hallway of the talent’s dressing rooms, Diantha’s was at the very front, and took up the majority of the space.  It was far more ornate than the other talent’s dressing rooms in that it had its own lounge area, and her wardrobe was also in the same room.  It had a few other amenities, but none of it was Cynthia’s concern as Diantha ushered her into the space. 

         Closing the door behind them, Diantha turned around to face Cynthia, crossing her arms.  “I need you to tell me all of your hang ups.  What is bothering you?  I want to compliment you that you actually started off very strong yesterday, you just mistimed something, but from there you went absolutely downhill.  What is wrong?  And you’re not allowed to brush me off.” She was going to get to the bottom of everything even if Cynthia wasn’t going to enjoy a single second of it. 

         Cynthia sighed, a world of defeat behind the motion.  “I don’t like being bad at something, and I just feel like I'm wasting everyone’s time.”  She started pacing around the lounge area.  “I’m wasting yours by being terrible to work with.  Wasting the directors’ time because they’re obviously going to have to recast Elizabeth, and wasting my own because I can’t get out of my own head long enough to put anything I learned last month into use.  I feel like a giant failure and I don’t know what to do, and I’m just so out of my depth that I can’t even wall off all my feelings properly.”

         “Is that all?” Diantha asked.

         “Having cameras in my face is bothering me– which is also stupid!  I’ve had televised battles! Cameras shouldn't bother me!”  With that she was done, and then came the silence. 

         Diantha merely nodded along, deep in thought of where to begin helping her.  Working the order out in her head, she nodded again, looking back up at Cynthia. 

         “Would you be willing to try something with me?” she asked. 

         At that point, Cynthia was too miserable to protest.  “Sure.”

         “You have a Rosereade, correct?  Is she with you?”

         She reached for the poké ball attached to her mechanic’s clip.  “Yeah, she’s one of my props.”  All of her team members that were in standard poké balls were with her at least. 

         “Does she know how to use Aromatherapy, by chance?” she asked. 

         She nodded. 

         “If you’ll bring her out, I want you to sit here and mediate with me,” she said, already beginning to take her spot on the lounge rug.  While not much, it at least provided some cushion against the concrete flooring. 

         Grabbing her pokémon off her clip, she released her, taking a hesitant seat across from Diantha. 

         “Hello, darling,” Diantha greeted the pokémon. 

         Roserade trilled, looking between her trainer and Diantha.  She was already well aware of the tension that had been between them, and was wanting to do her best to keep her own energy positive. 

         Diantha looked to Cynthia, thinking back to her counselor doing a similar exercise with her years ago.  “Sit however is most comfortable for you, and Roserade darling, I would love if you would join us.” 

         The grass pokémon nodded, mirroring Diantha’s cross-legged position next to Cynthia. 

         “Now, if you would use just a very light Aromatherapy.”  Her therapist had a Spritzee that would assist in that matter, and it always helped mellow things out.  Especially when her own anxiety was running rampant. 

         Roserade nodded, a subtle fragrance eventually meeting both women. 

         She looked to Cynthia, who she figured was unsure if this would even help.  “I’m going to talk you through some simple breathing exercises.  Feel free to close your eyes, or whatever is most comfortable for you.” 

         Diantha kept her voice low, purposely speaking slower than her normal talking speed.  “It’s very easy to get trapped in your own head.  I’ve been there plenty of times, and while I don’t want to push this on you as a cure-all, it takes the edge off when I start heading in that direction.  So, just take a deep breath with me through the nose, all the way until you’re unable to take in anymore,” she instructed. 

         Roserade breathed in with them, keeping her eyes closed as well. 

         “Now exhale slowly through your mouth,” she continued, trying to figure out the pacing of her own breathing.  Her counselor always made talking through the instructions so easy.  “Breathe out until there is nothing in your lungs, and we’ll repeat this a few times.”

         Before Cynthia’s thoughts could completely tread into how self-conscious the exercise was making her feel, Diantha continued talking. 

         “It’s just you, me, and Roserade, so try not to worry about anything else right now.  Filming is far off.  There are none of our costars or directors here.  It’s just us.  If your thoughts start to wander, that’s perfectly alright.  When you notice, just come back to thinking about your breathing.” 

         Thankfully, Roserade’s light Aromatherapy made that an easy and pleasurable thing to do. 

         Whenever Cynthia found herself thinking back to her mess-ups, how she was scared to go back out there and have to face everyone after their blowup, she came back to her breathing.  Counting in how many seconds she could inhale, then the same for her exhale.  Or she would choose to think about the precise scent of Roserade’s Aromatherapy.  Being a Sinnohan Roserade, there were the faintest pine notes that accompanied her rosy aroma.

         “Personally,” Diantha continued.  “I tend to hold a lot of tension in my jaw, so if you have any tension anywhere, try your best to just relax it.”  Taking a peek, she saw Cynthia’s shoulders slump in response.  

         Before either of them knew it, over five minutes had passed in comfortable silence.  “And now, just let your breathing fall back into its natural rhythm.” 

         Another five minutes had passed.  Diantha figured it was more than enough for her first time.  “You can open your eyes now, darling.”

         Looking her in the eyes, she felt a sense of emotional whiplash.  Realizing how relaxed she felt in her presence, it was a strange thing to think that she had been ready to start a fight only minutes earlier. 

         “Are you feeling any better?” she asked.

         Cynthia nodded, adjusting her seating on the ground.  “Yeah, weirdly I am.  Thank you,” she said, more to the floor. 

         Diantha looked over to Roserade.  “If we’re going to thank anyone, it should be you!  Thank you, dear Roserade, you were lovely.  The Spritzee I would normally have use Aromatherapy had a candy-sweet smell to it.  Yours was lovely.” 

         Roserade giggled at the praise.

         “If she ever gets in a tizzy ever again, just make her sit down and breathe,” she said. 

         The pokémon continued to giggle, shooting a look at Cynthia that said she would definitely follow through with that. 

         After thanking her for her work, she returned her pokémon to her poké ball, only to find Diantha now standing in front of her, a hand extended to her.  “Let’s move to the couch.  It’s probably more comfortable there,” she said. 

         Her gut reaction was to refuse her hand, but she shoved that away.  Diantha was willing to put everything aside to work with her, and she wasn’t going to force it to be a one-way street.  She would work with her as well. 

         Standing up, she quickly took her hand back to dust herself off before sitting on the opposite end of the couch from Diantha.

         “So,” Diantha said, adjusting herself.  “We’re both obviously frustrated that none of this is going to plan.” There was a lot to unpack from what Cynthia had told her, so she figured it was best to take it in stages. 

         “Diantha, I honestly don’t even know why I’m here,” she again admitted, leaning back on her arm.  She refused to make eye contact.  “I have no clue why they were so dead-set on me filling this role.  I shouldn’t even be here–”

         She had thought that about herself many times in her day.  Especially early on in her career.  She wasn’t about to let Cynthia wallow in that feeling.  “Let me stop you right there,” she interrupted.  “I cannot say for certain why they picked you, but Michael did tell me the producers got sold on the idea of having two champions in an episode.  It may not be true, but it does sound likely in my opinion.  So, let me offer you some closure on that.  You were picked, essentially, out of happenstance.”

         She shook her head, brushing away the loose strands of hair.  “It’s definitely not going to be happenstance when they send me home after this.”

         “Cynthia, I am not lying to you when I say that you started off very strong.  Stronger than many other people I have worked with, and probably even stronger than I did during my first film.  If we can get you back to that spot, I have no doubt you will nail this.”

         She noticed a slight change in her posture, and she then turned to face her better.  Diantha hoped it was at least giving her some confidence; Xerneas knew she could use it. 

         A lengthy silence followed, Cynthia unsure of what to say. 

         “May I ask something?” Diantha said, leaning back against the armrest. 

         She nodded a yes. 

         It was something that had been bothering her since filming started.  “Where did you and I get off track?  I thought…” She shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I thought things were looking to be very promising after we had lunch together.  What happened?  If I did something to offend you, I want to know so I can do better to avoid it in the future.”

         Cynthia took in a deep breath, thinking over how she wanted to explain everything.  Though, every possible way of phrasing suddenly seemed childish and pathetic.  “It’s only now that I’m about to say it out loud that I realize I completely overreacted, and let my anxiety convince me of this, but I want to be honest with you.  When you said that I had no idea what I was getting myself into, I took it as a threat.”

         Just like that, it clicked for Diantha.  It completely explained the sudden tension after a lunch that had seemed to go over well.  It left her feeling bad.  She hadn’t meant it as a threat. 

         She angled herself towards her more, now leaning forward, hands atop her own knees.  “Cynthia, I want to offer you my sincerest apology.  I didn’t realize that had come across that way.  I had meant it more of a…” She paused to think how to best phrase it.  “Filming is a strange world that most people don’t know how tedious it is, and that nobody expects it to be as awful as it can be.”  She leaned back a bit.  “Regardless, it came across as a threat, and I apologize for that.  I will make sure to take care that I don’t come across that way in the future.  I want this to work, Cynthia.”

         It wasn’t an apology Cynthia had expected.  She had figured that once she said it, Diantha would then act the victim of it all, or told her that she was just overreacting.  Instead, she had handled it in the most ideal way possible.  So ideal, it didn’t even occur to Cynthia as a possible outcome. 

         Despite it, she felt the need to offer her own apology.  “I’m sorry I’ve been such a pain to work with.  Especially considering it’s only day four,” she said with a bit of a laugh. 

         At that, Diantha laughed.  “Darling, this is nothing, I assure you.  I’ve had films where me and my costar were practically at each other’s throats every other minute.  You and I just…we need to come to a better understanding.  I am willing to put in the work with you, Cynthia, if you will do the same for me.”

         It was such a simple fix, Cynthia realized.  _Talk. Just talk to her._  

         Diantha was an expert at this.  As she had said before, she had seventeen years’ worth of experience to go off of. 

         To top all of that, she was _easy_ to talk to.  The worry at the back of her mind saying she would just berate her for everything was no longer nearly as loud.  She had evidence to back up that Diantha was willing to listen. 

         Before she could say that she wanted to put in the work, she was cut off by the throwing open of the dressing room door.

         Tom stormed into the room, all in a huff, his face red with anger.  “Okay, you two!  Whatever that shit was?”  He pointed frantically between them.  “You need to work that shit out before you even _think_ of stepping foot back onto my set!”

         Cynthia was about to respond; clearly, he couldn’t read the room.  The tap of Diantha’s foot against her leg kept her silent. 

         “Duly noted, Director Sharpe.  Give us the day and it will be worked out,” Diantha answered in a proper manner. 

         He grumbled and huffed some more before storming out of the room in the same fashion.  “Tomorrow it better be fixed!”  Followed by a heavy slam of the dressing room door. 

         When Cynthia looked to Diantha, she found herself laughing at how dramatically she was rolling her eyes. 

         “I didn’t want to badmouth him before, but he’s an absolute pain in the ass,” she said, lolling her head over to her. 

         She laughed lightly.  “I figured as much.”

         “Anyways,” Diantha began, crossing her legs.  “Now that we have the day off, I think it might be best to spend it together.  If we can come to understand one another better, I’m confident that we can get through this film.”

           “Probably a good idea.”  Maybe even a wild idea, but it was one she was willing to entertain. 

         An idea came to mind in almost an instant.  It was the perfect way for them to get to know one another.  “You know,” she said, drawing in her attention.  “I have an idea for something we could do.”

         “You have my full attention, Cynthia.”  As she said it, there was a flicker of realization in the back of her mind that, despite their earlier conflict, Cynthia had never truly lost her attention. 

         “Battle me,” she said with a grin. 

         Sure, it was incredibly simple, but in all her years, she found this to be one of the most effective ways for trainers to get to know one another.  Learning how the other person battled was a surefire way to learn more about how the person operated as a whole. 

         Diantha mirrored her grin.  “I suppose I do owe you a battle after bailing on you this last meeting.  Siebold said he had a good battle against you, but I think I would like to see if the Sinnoh Champion really lives up to all the hype.”

         Her tone was playful enough, but something about it sparked a fire in Cynthia, different from how she had been sparking them thus far. 

         After she had trampled the kid back at the hotel, maybe it was just the thought of having a good battle that was exciting her. 

         Besides, she had the perfect place in mind.  They could have a battle, and it would provide her an opportunity to be around cameras that she was confident wouldn't bother her.  “You okay with a crowd?  I think I know somewhere we could go.”  

         “Are you okay with losing in front of a crowd?” she teased.

         The grin on her painted lips only stoked the fire.  “I’m not going down without a fight.”

         Bringing herself to her feet, Diantha moved to stand in front of Cynthia.  She thought to continue teasing her, but figured she would save it for later.  They had only just gotten on stable footing with one another.  “Allow me to get out of all of this and then you can take me wherever you like.” She took a step back, allowing Cynthia to stand as well.

         “I’ll get more…public appropriate as well,” she said, looking down at her hands that were still coated in faux grease.  “Walking around this grungy might make people think I actually know how to do an oil change.”

         Diantha laughed.  “Meet me back here in a half an hour or so?” she offered. 

          “Sounds good.”  She excused herself, heading back towards her own dressing room.  She figured she would have more than enough time to make a few quick calls. 

         As she walked down the hall frantic chittering caught her attention.  Rounding the corner, Watchog scurried down to her.  He walked frantic circles around her, only coming to a stop when she kneeled down. 

         “I probably owe you a thanks, huh?” she asked, offering her hand out to him. 

         He pouted, carefully placing his chin in her palm. 

         “Thank you for getting between us, Tango.  You were a bigger help than I probably even realize,” she said. 

         His pout disappeared as his tail began to wag.  His chitters finally turned into a happier sound. 

         “You can head back to Camila now.  I’ll see you tomorrow, and hopefully by then we’ll get these scenes out of the way,” she said.

         He gave her a heart nod, scurrying off the way he had come from. 

         Standing up again, she noticed at the end of the hallway Lita walking towards her.  She internally groaned, hoping Lita wasn’t about to yell at her like Tom had. 

         “Got a minute?” she asked, approaching her. 

         She nodded.  “Sure, but walk with me towards my dressing room?” she asked, not wanting to risk Diantha having to overhear more yelling. 

         “Sure thing,” she said, falling in step beside her.  “So, wanted to say sorry for Tom yelling at you two.  I tried to stop him, but he’s a big hothead, and there’s just no reasoning with him sometimes.  I thought I’d come ask if you two are going to be okay?”

         It took Cynthia by surprise.  Then again, despite the short time in their presence, she always did favor Lita in comparison to Tom.  “She did just make me sit and mediate with her, so I think we’ll be fine.”

         Lita snorted a laugh.  “Meditate, huh?  Whatever works, I guess.  But listen, Cynthia, if you need something from either me or Tom, please let me know.  You’re having a rough time, there’s no two ways about it.  I’ve been on sets where we called in a mediator for our leads, and I can figure out someone to bring in if you’re still unsure with acting.  I’m here to help you, Cynthia, okay?”

         It was an interesting sense of clarity for Cynthia.  While, sure, she still wasn’t fond of Tom, or even Alexander for the matter, but Diantha and Lita were both on her side.  She just had to let them in and help her, and she had to also actively reach out when she needed to, instead of giving in to shutting down. 

         Cynthia nodded, putting her hands in her pockets.  “Diantha and I have worked together before, though, it was on a much smaller scale.  We’re both champions.  We can work this out, but…Thank you, Lita.  I’m sorry for…causing a scene.”

         At that, Lita laughed, the hearty infectious sound resonating in the hallways.  “I’ve seen worse.  You didn’t break anything.  Just let me know if you ever need anything.” 

         With that, she was off, still chuckling to herself.

         The idea that things were going to work out was suddenly becoming easier to consider. 

 

 

         Half an hour later, a few calls out of the way, and a text to Mandy letting her know she was going to be competing in the PWT, Cynthia was cleaned up, and her makeup was down to a more natural look.  Her were clothes back to a loose-fitting grey shirt, a nicely weighted jacket, and black jeans.  It was far more comfortable than Elizabeth’s grimy clothes, even if they weren’t actually dirty. 

         Making her way back to Diantha’s room, the building around her had gone mostly silent.  The directors and a few others were still hanging around, going on about something with the script.  Their voices hushed as she passed, but she tried not to think about it. 

         Instead, she just wanted to concentrate on the feeling of looking forward to doing something with Diantha for a change.  It was a far better feeling than everything she had felt towards her for the past few days. 

         As she approached the dressing room, the muffled sound of Diantha’s voice could be heard.  It sounded like she was talking to someone. 

         “I know I may not be currently on set, but this is during the timeframe I gave you!”  There was a long pause, indicating to Cynthia that she was talking on the phone.  “Look, I have things to attend to right now.  You’re just going to have to wait until later…I do believe you will survive.”  Her tone was very dry. 

         Figuring she wasn’t supposed to hear any of it, Cynthia walked back down the hall, enough to where she was out of earshot.  Within minutes, Diantha was walking out of her dressing room, grumbling to herself as she threw her purse over her shoulder. 

         She jumped a little when she spotted Cynthia, her necklace giving an audible jingle against her mega charm.  “Sorry,” she apologized, closing the door behind her.  “For some reason I wasn’t expecting you.”  She wasn’t used to people being on time, but that was lost on Cynthia. 

         “I didn’t want to seem like I was eavesdropping,” she said, pushing herself off from the wall.  She noted that Diantha hadn’t removed Scarlet’s lipstick.  Her red purse matched the color almost perfectly.  She wore a black and white striped shirt, black high-waisted jeans, and she had put her hair up in its braid crown.  

         She rolled her eyes, but it wasn’t directed at Cynthia.  More at the memory of the conversation.  “All you would have overheard was my boyfriend being mad that I didn’t want to take his call.”  As more of an aside, she added, “Because heaven forbid I don’t answer him.”

         She knew she couldn’t say that she really knew anything about Mel Gardner other than what Steven had told her, but she was already confident that she was not impressed with him just as Steven had been.  “I’m sorry,” was all she could think to say. 

         Her forefront thought was closer to, _“Just throw out the whole boyfriend”,_ but she wasn’t close enough with Diantha to say something so blunt.  Plus, lacking full context, she didn’t want to overstep.  They were just getting on good terms with one another, and she wasn’t looking to take any more steps back on that.  “Still up for a battle?” she asked, giving her an out. 

         It at least brought a smile back to Diantha’s face.  “Of course.  Are you still up for losing?” she taunted. 

         She laughed.  “Your modesty is astounding,” she retaliated, walking with her to the exit of the building. 

         “So, my darling, where are you taking me?” she asked, standing with her out on the terrace. 

         Poké ball in hand, she turned to face her better.  “Have you ever competed in the Pokémon World Tournament?”

         She had heard about it, and had been invited plenty of times, but had yet to actually participate, never having enough time to do so.  “I have not,” she answered. 

         “You up for a trip to Driftveil City?” she asked, releasing Braviary from her capsule.  She gave a valiant call as she stretched out her wings. 

         When Cynthia looked back to Diantha, she saw a small grin on her face. 

         “ _Technically,_ Cynthia,” she began, clasping her hands together.  “I’m not supposed to fly around on pokémon.  My insurance and label would be _mortified_ if they found out.”

         She chastised herself not having considered that.  “I mean–“ She was about to offer they drive there.  However, with the drive time out of the city, then getting through Nimbasa, they might not make it in time to fit onto the next bracket of the day. 

         Diantha gave a wave of her hand, walking up to Braviary.  “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve broken a rule, Cynthia,” she said with a wink. 

         Something about the admission brought a smile to Cynthia’s face.  When it came to Diantha, she was in for bit of a ride, and it was one that she was quickly warming up to.

         From her coat pocket, she grabbed a hair tie, working on putting it up as she always did before flight.  “So, I’m thinking it would be best for you to sit in front of me.  That way, if my hair breaks free you’re not miserable,” she said. 

         The mental image made Diantha laugh.  “Sounds like a good idea,” she said, looking over her Braviary. 

         The bird was looking her over in return.

         Turning back to look at Cynthia, the visage of her hair pulled back took her by pleasant surprise. 

         The sense of emotional whiplash returned to Cynthia as they got situated on her pokémon.  The thought of being this close with one another wouldn’t have even crossed her mind an hour ago. 

         Braviary’s wings stirred up some dust, but despite the extra weight, she had no trouble taking off.  The second her talons were off the ground, Cynthia felt Diantha flinch back into her.  Carefully, she put an arm around her waist.  “You’re fine.  I’ve got you,” she soothed. 

         “I know,” she answered, forcing herself to relax as much as possible.  “It’s just been a while since I’ve flown like this.”

         Once she allowed herself to take comfort in the arm around her, she felt herself completely relax.  The air around them was warm, helping them rise above the skyline quickly.  It had been a number of years since she had a view of the city like this.  It was easy to wish her label didn’t forbid her from doing this regularly. 

         After a short but enjoyable flight, Braviary touched down in the harbor leading towards the arena.  Cynthia had picked the location to avoid as much attention for Diantha’s sake.  As she had anticipated, the area was sparsely populated, with mainly boat personnel occupying the area. 

         Sliding off her pokémon first, Cynthia offered Diantha a hand down next. 

         “Thank you, darling,” she said to Cynthia, before walking up to Braviary’s face.  “And thank you, Braviary!  That was a very pleasant flight.”

         She put her beak in her two hands, giving her a small coo.  The depths of her face feathers were warm. 

         Cynthia thanked her pokémon as well after pulling her hair out of its confines, returning her to her poké ball.  She wouldn't be using her for the tournament, that way they could fly back to Castelia later without any problems. 

           “So, any particular reason you chose this as opposed to just us finding a regular battlefield?” Diantha asked, keeping in step with Cynthia as they made their way to the venue. 

         “It’s an easy way to have a referee –not that I think you would be an unfair opponent.  But it also gives me a chance to be around cameras, and see if I can figure out why they don’t bother me during a battle, and if I can apply whatever it is to filming.” 

         She nodded.  “Works for me.”  She would also try to see if she could figure out why the cameras here wouldn’t bother her as opposed to the cameras on set.  She had a theory as to why, but she would keep it to herself until she had solid proof. 

         Around them, the density of people began to increase. 

         “Oh, and while I’m confident you and I will make it to the final round to face one another, I thought it might be good to have some guaranteed competition along the way,” Cynthia began, carefully navigating them through the crowd.  “I hope that’s alright.”

         Diantha grinned at her.  “You just better hope they don’t knock you out before we can even battle.  I’ll be sorely upset otherwise,” she teased. 

         Thankfully, Cynthia was fully aware of her teasing. 

         Inside the venue, people moved about hurriedly around the flashy building.  In their rush, nobody paid Cynthia and Diantha any attention. 

         “Cynthia!” 

         Hearing her name above the noise, she looked around until her eyes finally caught sight of who was calling her.  The young woman’s frantic waving stopped as she worked her way through the crowd. 

         Diantha stood with Cynthia, watching her approach. She seemed almost out of breath, but still wore a bright smile on her face. 

         The young woman was tall with an athletic build.  While still not taller than Cynthia –though was anyone really?—Diantha felt certain that she would have no trouble taking on either of them. 

         “Rosa!  I’m so glad you could make it!” Cynthia greeted. 

         Her brown hair was pulled up into a single, messy bun, indicating how quickly she had rushed to meet them.  Cynthia made a mental note to herself to make it up to her at some point. 

         She pulled at the bag strapped around her, keeping her eyes up on Cynthia’s face.  “You’re rarely in the region, so of course I would come out for this!  Sorry Nate couldn't come.  He didn’t want to fight getting out of the studio.”

         She then turned to see who Cynthia was with, and the second her eyes landed on Diantha they went wide. 

         It was a look Diantha was all too familiar with.  It was a look of recognition, and maybe even a touch of embarrassment for not having done so sooner. 

         Cynthia found herself amused.  “Rosa, this is Diantha, champion of the Kalos region,” she introduced. 

         Diantha extended a hand to her.  “A pleasure to meet you, Rosa.  Cynthia tells me you’re quite the challenger.”

         She took her hand with an anxious delay.  “The pleasure is all mine, honestly!  If I may, I loved you in Hoenn Holiday!” 

         There was a genuine air of surprise about Diantha.  “Really?” she asked, taking her hand back.  “I’m surprised to hear that.  Most people tell me they hated it because of how long it was.”  A few minutes shy of two hours was a bit much…

         Rosa shook her head, carefully pushing back some of the stands of hair that were threatening to fall out.  “I thought it was really artsy, and so I appreciated it for that!” 

         Diantha looked up to Cynthia.  “I like her already.”  She then refocused on Rosa, whose cheeks had gone pink by that point. 

         “If we want to make it into the next bracket, we should go get registered,” Cynthia said, figuring she would spare Rosa a little. 

         The process was simple enough, having battled there plenty of times before.  It was only Diantha who had to take a little longer with registration. 

         Rosa and Cynthia waited for her to be finished off to the side, just far enough away where Rosa figured she couldn’t hear them. 

         “You could have warned me you had _her_ with you!  I look like a hot mess!”  Rosa hissed, getting a small laugh from Cynthia. 

         Diantha figured she wasn’t meant to hear any of it as she returned to them, but she didn’t want her thinking so negatively of herself.  “You should have seen this one about an hour ago.  With all the makeup she had on!”  She said, directed at Cynthia. 

         She laughed again.  “Yeah, hot mess probably better describes how I looked.  I had a bunch of makeup that made it look like I just walked out of a mechanic’s shop.” 

         Rosa leaned up against the wall, looking at the two women in front of her.  “Am I allowed to ask why you’re both here in Unova?”

         Cynthia looked to Diantha for help.  “How much are we allowed to say?  I don’t remember that from my contract briefing.”  At best, she knew not to say anything on social media until given the okay, and even then, that wasn’t much of a risk with how little she used hers. 

         Thankfully, Diantha was fully aware of how much they could and couldn't share.  “We’re both starring, well, I’m re-starring, and she’s my costar in a new episode of Red Dawn,” she answered.  It was already public knowledge that she had signed on to the episode, so there was no harm in it.  

         Rosa thought it over for a few seconds.  “Okay, yeah!  I know that show.  It’s a little weird, but yeah!  Your first episode was, uh…Lady In Red, right?” she asked. 

         “Correct,” she answered. 

         A voice came over the speakers, announcing that the contestants in the day’s next bracket were permitted to go into the waiting area.  

         “I need to ask a quick question before we do anything,” Diantha said, holding them back.  When both women gave her their attention, she continued.  “How does all of this exactly work?  I was given my bracket number, but I…got distracted when the woman was explaining to me, and then I was too embarrassed to ask her again.”  She felt her neck get warm just from admitting it, but with it being such a crowded venue, spacing out was easy to do. 

         Rosa giggled at her, but Cynthia began to explain before she could. 

         “So, basically, there’s sixteen groups, and eight rounds.  You and I have been placed in the furthest rounds from one another.  They’re basically banking on us battling in the final round.”

         Rosa nodded.  “Not if I knock her out, first!” 

         “A possibility.  Rosa is highly ranked, so where she’s at, you two will likely face off in the semi-finals.”

         Diantha was amused in her confidence.  “So, you don’t foresee yourself losing before the final rounds?” She asked. 

         She gave a one shouldered shrug.  “I haven’t lost in a while.  Like I told you earlier, I’m not going down without a fight.”

         Diantha crossed her arms, fully facing Cynthia at that point.  “I look forward to seeing how much of a fight you put up against me.”

         Rosa looked between the two, forcing down the urge to laugh.  Thankfully, they began to walk towards the waiting room before she could have a chance to do so. 

         Cynthia continued to explain the ins and outs of how the day would go. 

         They found a spot in the waiting area where they agreed to meet back up after their battles.  With Cynthia being in the very first bracket, she was called off immediately. 

         “So, darling,” Diantha began, sitting down on the bench next to Rosa.  “Have you ever battled Cynthia before?”

         She nodded.  “Plenty of times.”

         “Have you ever won?” she followed up. 

         She immediately shook her head.  “No.  I’ve gotten really close, but I always lose at the last second.  I think it’s probably easier to come close to beating her since it’s three-on-three, but I won’t even consider a full team battle with her until I can beat her in one of these.”

         Despite the confidence she had been putting on so far, the thought that she might actually lose crept in.  She had to force it down.  Worrying about losing would only make it a self-fulfilling prophecy. 

         “What about you?  Have you ever battled her?” Rosa asked.

         “No, this will actually be our first battle.  We ended up with the day off, and figured it would be a good way to get to know one another.”  She figured it was best to not get into the details of why they had the day off.  It was best that stayed within the walls of the studio. 

         Soon enough the tv’s in the area displayed the opening announcements by the MC, and quickly moving on to Cynthia’s opening battle. 

         Using only Milotic, her opponent was steamrolled, ending up knocked out in what was surly almost record time. 

         “She doesn’t mess around, does she?” Diantha asked.  Though, she realized she said that like she hadn’t at least witnessed a battle of hers. She had at least witnessed a two-on-two against her and Alder during his last official international meeting as champion.  She had held no punches in that battle.    

         Rosa chuckled next to her, keeping her eyes on the screen. “Yeah, half the time I'm torn between feeling intimidated by her, and in awe of her.” 

         Diantha figured it was a good summary of her first meeting with Cynthia as well.  Intimidated and awed, all at once. 

         Cynthia returned to them shortly, making light of her victory.  She wanted to save the real gloating for when she beat Diantha. 

         The three of them at on their bench, watching the other battles go by, commenting on strategies and the participants themselves.  Soon enough, Rosa was called off for her battle, needing to be fitted for her stage mic.   

         Alone with Cynthia, Diantha moved to sit directly next to her.  “You know, I’m surprised she remembered the title of my Red Dawn episode,” she commented. 

         Cynthia chuckled, leaning back on her hands.  “Probably because you’re pretty, and she’s obviously smitten with you.”

         Her eyebrows rose.  “Oh?  So, I wasn’t reading too much into any of that?”

         She shook her head.  “No.  She’s a sucker for a pretty girl.  How do you think I was so sure she would here if I asked her to?  Within the hour?”

         Diantha gave her a playful shove.  “My!  Playing a girl’s heart like that.  Cruel, Cynthia.  Absolutely cruel.”  Though, she was plenty guilty of doing the same thing. 

         Cynthia shoved her in return.  “I simply asked her to be here so I could guarantee we would have some good competition.  She didn’t _have_ to show up.”

         “Just cruel,” she continued. 

         Cynthia rolled her eyes, not willing to buy into her teasing.  

         The following rounds went by smoothly.  Cynthia sailed through the semi-finals with ease, knocking out her opponents with the aid of Milotic, only switching to Roserade in the semi-finals to give her a break. 

         At first, Diantha’s battle with Rosa seemed to be going downhill for her.  The young woman was a force of nature, and Cynthia had completely undersold just how strong of a trainer she was.  Her Liepard ended up taking Goodra out in record time. 

         However, it was upon recalling her dragon that she realized her strategy.  From all the pokémon she had seen thus far, she had one strategy: hit hard, and hit fast. 

         Sending out Tyrantrum was her best bet.  Thanks to recently learning Iron Defense, his already bulky stats were amped up enough to where he became a wall Rosa couldn’t climb. 

         A Head Smash, and a few Thrashes later, Rosa’s team was out for the count. 

         The crowd went wild with cheers, and the LED board flashed Diantha’s name.  It was all quite ostentatious for Diantha’s taste, but she kept it down, meeting Rosa in the middle for a handshake. 

         Rosa took her hand eagerly.  “Diantha, it was an absolute honor to get to battle you!” 

         “Likewise, Rosa.  If I hadn’t had Tyrantrum with me, I don’t know that I would have won.  I do hope one way you and I could have a full team battle.”  She enjoyed watching her eyes light up at the suggestion. 

         “I would love that!”

         With a final wave to the crowd, the two walked back to their respective sides of the field, meeting in the under-arena tunnels. 

         Rosa began to unclip her mic so it could be handed off to Cynthia, who was already waiting.  She said a quick goodbye, eager to get back in the waiting area so she could watch their battle. 

         “So, what did you think of Rosa now that you’ve battled her?” Cynthia asked, once Diantha’s team had been handed off to an assistant for healing. 

         She moved to stand next to her.  “I can see why you have an eye out for her.  If she learns how to deal with a proper defensive wall, she could be an absolute force to be reckoned with.” 

         “I’ve told Iris to keep an eye on her as well, but I'm not sure how seriously she’s taken me.” 

         Their conversation fell into a lull, but around them, they could hear the crowd being hyped by the MC. 

         Diantha’s pokémon were returned to her, meaning they only had a few short minutes before they would be called in.  Both women could feel adrenaline starting to course through them. 

         “So, you truly believe you and I will understand one another better after this?” Diantha asked, wanting a distraction from the anticipation. 

          Cynthia shrugged, putting her hands into her pockets.  “I mean, there’s always a chance nothing will change.  Though, I like to think we’re already on better terms with one another.  Especially after this morning,” she said. 

         It got a nod from Diantha. 

         “But I’ve always held the belief that when facing someone in a battle, it can tell you just about everything you need to know about them.  What pokémon they have.  What moves they’ve taught.  What items they have their pokémon hold.  It’s a very telling thing to me, even without words.” 

         Right after, one of the assistants called for them to head to their field entrances. 

         At least satisfied with where Cynthia was coming from, Diantha nodded, turning half way towards her end of the arena.  “May this be an excellent battle, Cynthia.” 

 

 

         Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Diantha was down to her last pokémon.  Cynthia’s Milotic had taken out Hawlucha, and had fallen to a double knockout with Gourgeist.  There was no other choice for her to make.  She had promised Gardevoir this battle, and was saving her use of mega evolution for Cynthia. 

         She just hoped she wouldn't have to use it too soon. 

         “Alright, my darling!  Let’s take this back!” 

         Gardevoir appeared with her usual grace, her mega charm glistening in the stadium lighting. 

         Cynthia grinned from her side of the field.  While her first two pokémon had put up an excellent fight, one worthy of a champion, she felt far more confident now than she had walking into the battle. 

         Grabbing her next poké ball, she tossed it up, figuring this would go over well.  “Alright, Gar–“ she stopped short at the sight of the pokémon that appeared before her.  “ _–Bodor?”_

         The large poison pokémon gave its battle call, much to Cynthia’s absolute dismay.  She put a hand over her mic, praying that nobody would hear her.  “ _Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.”_

         There was a bright laugh that brought Cynthia back in the moment. 

         “I must say, I…wasn’t expecting this!” Diantha said, her voice clear in the stadium. 

         Taking her hand back, she did her best to remain stoic.  “What can I say?  I’m always full of surprises.” 

         The edge in her voice caught Garbodor’s attention.  It grinned at her, the unsightly motion unnerving her.

         Wanting to get things underway, and hopefully back into her favor, Diantha didn’t even have to voice an order for what she wanted Gardevoir to do.  

         Eyes glowing, Gardevoir built up her Psychic attack, but when she went to unleash it upon Garbodor, nothing happened.  It took nearly everyone by surprise. 

         While the announcer relayed it to the crowd, Diantha was busy mentally gong over what she might have missed for the attack to not work.  She was positive Garbodor was a poison only pokémon, so was there an item she had overlooked?

         “Feint Attack!”

         Quicker than she assumed any normal Garbodor would move, it delivered a swift uppercut to Gardevoir. 

         She was sent back towards the edge of the field, but was hardly out for the count.  They both knew they still had time before mega evolution was needed. 

         She called for another use of Psychic, much to Cynthia’s delight. 

         Once it again failed, and Gardevoir was knocked back by another Feint Attack, she called for Shadow Ball.  They weren’t getting anywhere with psychic moves, so it was time to switch it up. 

         Cynthia ordered a dodge, but Gardevoir was too fast for her pokémon. 

         In one hit, the illusion dissipated, revealing a Zoroark instead of a Garbodor. 

         “Well!  That explains a lot!  Consider me impressed!”  Diantha said, laughing to herself.  Had she realized Cynthia had a Zoroark with her, she would have figured that out much sooner. 

         Letting go of a sigh, Cynthia shook her head.  “Like I said, always full of surprises.”  Zora looked back to her, waiting for an order.  “And since the charade is up, Night Daze!” 

         Building the attack above her head, Zora slammed her claws to the ground, sending a powerful wave of energy at Gardevoir. 

         The attack was strong, but Gardevoir powered through it. 

         Diantha was quick to counter.   “Moonblast!”

         In one fell swoop, Zora was knocked out. 

         Recalling her, Cynthia thanked her for her work.  She had done some good damage to Gardevoir, so even though they were both down to one pokémon each, she was still plenty confident. 

         “Been looking forward to this since the international meeting.  Garchomp!  You’re up!”

         Putting on a show, Garchomp appeared with a loud battle cry, deep and guttural.  Neither she nor her trainer were even worried about facing a fairy pokémon.  They already had the perfect strategy for dealing with them. 

         Despite the obviously solution being to just go for another Moonblast, Diantha refrained.  She was dealing with Cynthia and her ace, after all.  One Moonblast wouldn't be enough to take down Garchomp. 

         That, and they were performers at heart.  A repeat of Moonblast wouldn't go over well. Not on their final battle.

         She called for, instead, Hyper Voice.

         Garchomp winced, falling on one knee until the attack was over.  Standing up, she shook her head, looking back to Cynthia. 

         Cynthia didn't feel any need to wait. 

         “Dragon Rush!”

         Diantha merely ordered a dodge.  Cynthia of all people would know better than to use a dragon move on a fairy, so she figured she had something up her sleeve. 

         The two pokémon were matched for speed, Garchomp having to really anticipate where the fairy pokémon was going to teleport next.  Finally, she managed to find her pattern and land a hit, doing nothing more than sweeping the other pokémon back.  

         Gardevoir grunted, but retained little damage.

         “I know better than to assume you’re not up to something,” Diantha said, directed at Cynthia, before ordering Shadow Ball.   

         “Stomping Tantrum!”

         Like the kid and his Granbull, the attack’s power was doubled from using an ineffective move.  Gardevoir’s move was cut short as Garchomp slammed her fin into her stomach. 

         But unlike the Granbull, Gardevoir was no average pokémon.  She was still the pokémon of a champion, and despite having the breath knocked from her and her legs wobbly as she struggled to stand, she was still in the battle. 

         Gardevoir looked back to Diantha, a silent plea. 

         Hand moving up to her necklace, both their charms began to glow.  “Well, Cynthia, I must say: It’s been a very long time since I was backed into a corner like this.  Such a display deserves our best!   Let us show you the power of our bond!”

         The glow grew brighter than the stadium lighting, forcing Garchomp and Cynthia to shield their eyes. 

         “Gardevoir!  Beyond evolution: Mega Evolve!”

         A loud call that rivaled her Hyper Voice, as the glow finally faded, Gardevoir stood before them, seemingly refreshed with her new form.

         The crowd in the stadium went wild, their voices deafening to the point where the MC’s voice was unable to be heard. 

         With their connection stronger than ever Diantha didn’t need to call out her next order.  She only did so for posterity.  “Hyper Voice!”

         It wasn’t what Cynthia was expecting.  As much as she wanted Garchomp to dodge, there was nowhere to go.  Even underground, she knew the move would permeate the earth.

         As she was going to call for an Earthquake, she noticed Garchomp seemed in far more distress than before.  Instead of one knee, she was down on both, scraping her fins against her head in agony. 

         Diantha’s giggle could be heard as the move finally faded and their mics were turned back on.  “In case you were wondering, upon mega evolution, Gardevoir’s ability changes to one called Pixilate.  All of her normal type moves become fairy type.  It’s quite handy, wouldn’t you say?” she asked with a smile.  

         Despite the rising frustration, Cynthia refused to show it on account of how charming her smile was. 

         “You okay, Garchomp?” she asked, watching her pokémon rise to her feet again. 

         She shook her head before nodding, but there was a noticeable difference.  Everything about her seemed heavier. 

         Cynthia was confident they could avoid a Moonblast, but she had to keep her from using Hyper Voice again. 

         “Stomping Tantrum, again!” she ordered, hoping they could knock the wind out of her long enough to land something else. 

         However, another effect of mega evolution was that Gardevoir was now terrifyingly fast.  They had been matched before, but now, coupled with the damage she had already received, Garchomp couldn’t hope to keep up. 

         “Shadow Ball!”

         Now she was just toying with them, eating up the crowd’s reactions. 

         “Earthquake!”

         The field began to shake as she ran away from the onslaught of ghost attacks.  In her wake, the field was torn up, hopefully creating some challenge for her teleporting act. 

         Diantha ordered Psychic. 

         Gardevoir tossed Garchomp back to Cynthia’s side of the field as if it were nothing. 

         “Stomping Tantrum, but you need to really rip up the ground,” she directed as Garchomp hobbled to her feet. 

         With a heavy nod, she ran back out, chasing Gardevoir around.  As anticipated, she began to teleport around the field, eventually landing in a spot where a piece of earth was surged up at her from the tantrum. 

         She fell back against the ground with a hard thud, struggling to get into a seated position, but Diantha said nothing, watching Cynthia carefully. 

         Cynthia saw it as her only window.  “Crunch!”

         The smile that broke across Diantha’s face told her she had made a grave error somewhere. 

         “Checkmate, darling,” she said in a soft tone.  “Moonblast!”

         Just in time for Garchomp to lunge at her pokémon, Gardevoir built up her attack, sending it straight into Garchomp’s face. 

         With it, Garchomp fell back heavily, and after the allotted three seconds, the referee called it. 

         “The winner is Diantha and Gardevoir!”

         Despite the hot anger and frustration that came with a loss, especially after so long without one, Cynthia couldn't bring herself to be too mad.  It had been a hell of a battle, and her overconfidence going into her battle with Gardevoir had been her downfall. 

         A loss was a loss, and if it had to be to anyone, she was okay with it being to another champion. 

         Recalling Garchomp, she expressed her thanks for working hard, and a promise for a reward later.  Meeting in the middle, she shook hands with Diantha. 

         “Was a hell of a battle, Diantha.”

         “I’ll say,” she responded, taking her hand back, looking over to Gardevoir.

         With a heavy blink, her mega appearance returned to normal.  She seemed more exhausted that way.

         “You almost had us there in the beginning.  I was definitely worried for a while,” she admitted, Gardevoir nodding along. 

         Cynthia smiled, and there was something about the gesture that caught Diantha off guard.  Maybe it was the stark contrast of how soft and genuine it was, in comparison to only a few hours ago when she could have sworn they were seconds away from going after the other’s throat.  Maybe it was just the way the lighting reflected in her eyes that really emphasized the greyness of them that captured her. 

         Whatever it was, it was leaving her speechless. 

         She could almost feel Gardevoir mentally laughing at her. 

         “We definitely need to have a full team battle one day,” Cynthia said, taking a step back when she saw the MC approaching them. 

         “I look forward to it, dear Cynthia,” she said, realizing it was the first time she had used the endearment towards her. 

         Cynthia realized it as well, and quickly came to the conclusion that she liked the way it sounded. 

         There wasn’t time to dwell on the thought for too long, however.  With a quick wave to Diantha and Gardevoir, she began to take her leave.  “I’ll see you backstage,” she said, her voice quickly getting overshadowed by the MC.

         The second her mic was off and returned to a staff member, Rosa was there to greet her backstage. 

         _“Cynthia, holy shit!”_

         At that, she couldn't resist laughing. 

         The young woman was talking a mile a minute, her face flushed with excitement.  “That was the most incredible thing I think I’ve ever seen!  The Dragon Rush to force that other move’s power to be better!  I had to ask someone what that move was and why you did that, but!”  She squealed a bit, her whole body shaking.  “I am _so_ keeping that in mind!  Also!  I’m totally getting a fairy type now!  I just gotta!” 

         With the way she was talking, Cynthia would have thought she had won the battle. 

         She stopped somewhere along the way, messing with her X-Transceiver, and saying, “Nate is going to be _so upset_ he didn’t come with me!”

         Cynthia watched the last few seconds of the tv feed from the backstage.  The MC wrapped things up quickly, the camera focusing in on Diantha and Gardevoir one last time before cutting off. 

         Fishing her phone from her pocket to check the time, the day had nearly passed them completely. 

         Not long after, Diantha rejoined them, Gardevoir still at her side. 

         Before Cynthia and Rosa could get to her, the remaining competitors from the day had already swarmed her.  She and Gardevoir handled it with grace, doing what they could to give quick, but individual attention to everyone.  It was clear to Cynthia that she just wanted to be done with it all. 

         But that’s when it hit her: it was _clear_ to her. 

         Just as she was about to do whatever she could to try and rescue her, Diantha pushed her way through the crowd, making a beeline for them.  Grabbing both their wrists, she began to drag them along.  “I want out of this arena,” she simply said. 

         “Gotcha,” Rosa answered, taking the lead.  She had the advantage of competing there often, which let her know the best ways around the place.

         Just before they could get out of the arena, in the main lobby, two men approached them. 

         The larger of the two men greeted them with a big, warm smile.  “Miss Diantha, again, congratulations!”  His southern Unovan accent was thick.  “And miss Cynthia, and even miss Rosa!  Excellent battles!  You three are welcome to come back anytime!” 

         The other man smiled at Cynthia.  “So glad you gave me that call, Cynthia,” he said.  He was one of the managers Cynthia was more used to working with. 

         “It was no problem,” Cynthia answered.  She noticed but didn’t draw attention to Diantha’s hand still on her wrist.

         Diantha had a smile on her face, but it was forced.  “We’re in the region for a few more months, so I’m sure we’ll be back!” she said.  “But if you don’t mind, I really would like to get my dear Gardevoir to a pokémon center.”  She looked back to Gardevoir, who was probably more exhausted than she was. 

         “Of course!  Thank you again!”

         Out of the building, Diantha finally released her grip on the two women, allowing herself to take a few deep breaths.  “I’m terribly sorry, both of you.  I just got…overstimulated there at the end.  Mega evolution drains the trainer as well, and so I’m just exhausted,” she rambled.

         Rosa was quick to cut her off.  “Hey, hey!  No worries!  This place is super easy to get overstimulated in, trust me.  I’ve been on the winners stage a few times, and yeah.  I know where you’re coming from.   With how intense y’all’s battle was I’m sure it was even worse.  If you want, I know which pokémon center will probably be the quietest,” she said. 

         The look of relief on her face was mirrored by Gardevoir.  “That would be absolutely lovely, dear Rosa.”

         The use of the endearment brought a flush to her face.  “I-it’s actually, technically, it’s in Nimbasa, but it’s just across the Charizard Bridge.  Not even a five minute flight, really,” she said.

         “Would you like to join us, Rosa?” Cynthia offered. 

         The look of defeat across her face was almost comical.  “ _Arceus_ , I would love nothing more, but Nate told me Stu is looking for me, so I gotta get back to Poké Stars or else he’ll get mad,” she explained.  Disappointment was eating at her, and she was seriously weighing the decision of if this was worth getting fired over. 

         She still had a successful career at battling, anyways…

         “Oh, you work at Poké Stars Studio?” Diantha asked.  She wished Rosa would have brought it up sooner.  They could have talked about that while Cynthia was away during her battles.

         Rosa nodded.  “Yeah, I guess I’m technically an–“ she made air quotes “–‘actress’, too, but…it’s Poké Stars.  It’s all campy at best.” 

         “Working for Poké Stars Studio doesn’t make you any less of an actress, darling.”  At that point, she knew she was just enjoying flustering her, and was too tired to care otherwise. 

         She shrunk into her shoulders.  “But does it?”

         Diantha laughed, but there was a world of exhaustion behind it.  “Tell you what,” she said, now digging though her purse.  Pulling out a small card, she handed it to Rosa.  “If you ever need advice or anything of the sort, here’s my manager’s card.  You can get ahold of me that way.”

         Her eyes lit up.  “Really?” She asked, holding the card delicately.

         Diantha nodded.  “Mind the time difference between here and Kalos is all I ask…also that you not share that.”

         “Of course!” 

         With a few final goodbyes, and a promise to take her to dinner sometime that about made her face bright red, Rosa headed off, and Cynthia and Diantha began to make their way back to the harbor. 

         Diantha looked at her pokémon.  “Thank you again, darling, for all your hard work.  You were wonderful today,” she said, returning her to her capsule. 

         Falling in beside Cynthia, she concentrated on their surroundings to keep herself awake.  Now, away from the arena, exhaustion was beginning to set in.  Going into mega evolution at low health had been a gamble that she was now paying for. 

         The air had cooled considerably.  Still early spring, most of the trees had yet to bloom.  A few had the beginnings of buds on their limbs, but nothing green yet.  Despite it and the temperature, the area was still lively.  The night scene felt like something out of a typical Unovan carnival. 

         “So, other than overstimulating you at the end there, was today alright?” Cynthia asked. 

         It pulled her from her surveying.  “Yes!  It was, actually.  It wasn’t what I was expecting, but I still enjoyed myself immensely,” she answered, finding herself about to make the motion of wrapping a jacket closer to herself.  She regretted not bringing one with her to the studio, or at least stealing one of Scarlet’s. 

         “Ready to take off?” Cynthia asked, retrieving Braviary’s poké ball from her coat pocket.  They seemed far enough away from everyone. 

         “Sounds good to me,” she answered, watching as Braviary made yet another dramatic appearance.  She appreciated the pokémon for her act. 

         Unlike before, Diantha was fully prepared for the feeling of Braviary taking off.  It didn’t stop her from putting a hand over Cynthia’s arm that was warm around her. 

         “Forgot to ask,” Cynthia said above the rising wind.  “Did the Sinnoh Champion live up to your expectations?”

         Diantha laughed, pressing herself back against her.  “Far exceeded them, darling.”

        

 

         As Rosa had said, it was hardly five minutes before the pokémon center by the bridge came into view. 

         Sitting off at a secluded corner table, waiting for their pokémon, Diantha stretched her arms above her head, doing her best to hold down a yawn.  She was unsuccessful. 

         Cynthia smiled at her.  “I assume mega evolution takes a lot out of the trainer as well?” she guessed, leaning on her arms on the table. 

         She nodded, mirroring her action.  “Yes.  Going into mega evolution when she was already injured–” she paused to yawn, covering her mouth.  “–Pardon me; I knew going into mega evolution like that was a risk, but it paid off.  I doubt we would have won, otherwise.”

         Cynthia shrugged.  “I think I was getting overconfident, so who knows how it could have gone.  Besides, I still think a full team battle is in order one of these days.”

         “Speaking of,” she began, resting her chin in her palm.  “What would you say you learned about me from our battle?”

         Cynthia hummed in thought, leaning back into her seat.  “I would say you’re a strong-willed woman who doesn’t give up even when the going gets tough.  You’re not afraid to take a risk, but that comes from being highly in tune with your pokémon.  You obviously wouldn’t ask something of your pokémon that you aren’t basically willing to do yourself, as emphasized by sharing the burden of mega evolution with Gardevoir; all of which I appreciate in a person.”

         Her red lips curved into a smile.

         “I also learned that I have nothing to worry about.  I think so long as I remind myself to talk to you when I’m worried about something, we’ll get along just fine.”

         “Trust me, darling, there is nothing you will do on set that I haven’t done at least five or more times.  I was an absolute wreck in my younger years,” she said, blinking heavily. 

         That surprised her.  “Really?  That’s almost hard to imagine with how well you work on set now,” she said, stretching her legs out under the table.  She was mindful to not end up kicking Diantha. 

         “While I got my start in theater at ten, I’ve been in front of cameras pretty much since I was fourteen.  My first...” she found herself struggling to find the right phrasing.  Exhaustion was trying to claim her as its victim.  “Big name film when I was seventeen.  When It Rains.  It was only a supporting role, but it got me my big break, so to speak,” she explained. 

         Cynthia made a mental note to add that to her watch list.   
         Though, she realized her mental list of things was starting to get long enough to warrant either a physical list, or at least one on her phone. 

         “Oh!  While I’m thinking about cameras,” Diantha said, sitting up.  “Did you pay any attention to the ones around us today?” she asked.

         She sunk further into her seat.  “Admittedly, I got so into all the battles, I just…tuned them out.”

         Diantha’s tired smile forced her to sit up.  “Exactly!  I think I have a solution for you, actually.  It came to mind when we were meditating, and I thought about what you said when it came to cameras during battles.”

         “I’m listening.”  She was willing to try anything Diantha suggested. 

         “Do you know your lines?” she suddenly asked, clasping her own hands atop the table. 

         “Yes,” she answered.

         “Are you positive?  Completely sure of this scene we’re trying to get done?  Word for word, you know your lines?” she pushed.

         It felt like a challenge.  “Are you going to quiz me?” she jokingly asked. 

         She shrugged.  “Elizabeth steps around the car, motioning for her pokémon to join her.  What’s your line?”

         So, she was serious. 

         “Well, well, well.  The Kiss of Death herself.  It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, trying to force down any shyness towards it.  “I then offer you, Scarlet, my hand, and she doesn’t take it.  I’m gross and dirty and she doesn’t like that.”

         Diantha laughed a bit.  “I would argue that Scarlet likes every bit of what she’s seeing, she’s just not ready to admit that because Elizabeth is so _grungy–_ anyways!  I say to Charles, ‘A woman with a Watchog?  You’ve got to be kidding me.’”  She wouldn't bother with her Scarlet voice for now. 

         Together they went through the scene, up to where they would cut off for the day. 

         At the end, Diantha dropped the serious act, smiling at Cynthia.  “You know your lines,” she said. 

         It caught her off guard.  “Yeah?”

         She leaned forward.  “Be confident in that, my dear!  Be as confident in that as you are with your battles!  The cameras don’t matter; not when you’re confident in your lines.  And if you mess up?  Who cares?  We have plenty of room for retakes, trust me.  I will mess up, Alexander will mess up, Michael will– we all will.  It happens.  Hell, the outtake reel is always better than the final project, anyways!” 

         She found herself laughing. 

         Being confident sounded easy in theory, but it was going to take some serious practice and constant reminders to herself.  At least there was one thing she was confident in: that she could will herself to ask for help from Diantha when needed. 

         Which brought up a different thought. 

         “Actually, while I'm thinking about it, I want to ask you something.  I’ve been meaning to ask, but I’ve just been worried how it will come across,” Cynthia began, resisting the temptation to tap her fingers on the table.  Hopefully it wouldn’t come across badly. 

         “Go ahead, darling.” She was curious to know where this question could possibly go, and why it might not go over well. 

         Cynthia was fairly certain of the answer, but it was something she wanted to be absolutely sure of.  “So, uh, there’s a few scenes in this where our characters kiss.”  Among other activities.  “Is that like stage kissing, or…?”

         Diantha found herself giggling, the sound making Cynthia’s neck burn.  “Oh, no, darling.  We will actually be kissing.”

         “Alright.  I kind of figured, but I just wanted to be sure.” 

         Diantha carefully watched her.  She was no longer making eye contact, and was holding her hands at a tense fist atop the table. 

         For a moment, a sense of something akin to fear washed over her.  Had she read Cynthia wrong?  Surly not, with how she had teased her about Rosa.  “Are you…”  She told herself to pick her words carefully.  “Intimidated by the idea of kissing a woman?”  Maybe it was a little too textbook, but it was what she was going to go with. 

         She immediately shook her head, much to Diantha’s relief.  “Oh, no, not at all,” she said with a laugh.  “It’s not kissing you that’s the problem.  It’s the whole kissing in front of cameras that’s unnerving me.”  She felt heat crawl up the back of her neck again, worried about her phrasing. 

         But it _was_ the truth.  In comparison to where she was at from the morning, kissing her wasn’t the problem. 

         Diantha’s eyes moved to her purse.  Grabbing her phone, she pulled up the copy of the script she kept on her.  “I want to tell you, again, to remind yourself to be confident in your lines, but admittedly…This is all a bit much for your first time acting.”  She flicked through the pages.  “The bar scenes where Elizabeth gets handsy, and then the fade to black later on will probably be the most…for lack of better phrasing, intense, we will have to get.”

         Cynthia only grumbled in response.  

         Without thinking, Diantha said, “I think everything will be fine.  I’ve done far worse in front of a camera, so–“ She stopped, a bright flush on her face.  It got a genuine laugh from Cynthia.  “Not my best phrasing.”  She would chalk it up to still being exhausted, and nothing more, but that wasn’t enough to rid herself of the heat that was now wrapping her. 

         It at least pulled Cynthia away from her anxiety.  “So, what was your film career start really?”  she asked, nudging her with her leg under the table. 

         She responded with a harder kick.  “I told you: Theater!  And my big break was When It Rains, a romance drama!  Not whatever it is you’re thinking!” 

         The only thing Cynthia was thinking about was how much she was enjoying teasing her. 

         “Anyways,” Diantha continued, adjusting herself in her seat.  “Like I said, the most intense we will have to be is when I have to.” She paused, looking down at her script to make sure she was correct in everything she was about to say.   “When I have to shove you down on a mattress and take off your jacket, all while Elizabeth, you, are making innuendo about being put in your place.” 

         Diantha fought to tell herself that she wasn’t looking forward to that scene in any capacity other than to just get things out of the way.   
         She wasn’t.

         She wasn’t.

         She wasn’t.

         Despite the protest, the thought of, _“I wonder what_ that’s _going to sound like in her voice?”_ already happened. 

         Cynthia looked off to the side once more, trying not to remember any of the lines she was going to say.  “The joys of acting,” she said flatly.

         Thankfully, one of the center’s nurses was approaching their table, a tray of poké balls in his hands, and Zora at his side.  “Sorry!  She wasn’t wanting to return to her poké ball,” he explained, setting the tray on the table. 

         Cynthia gave a pointed look to her sister’s pokémon.  “That’s not a surprise.”  She then looked up to the nurse.  “Thank you for everything.”

         “Yes, thank you,” Diantha said. 

         “Our pleasure!”

         Zora watched the man leave, before looking Cynthia in the eyes.

         She was giving her a forced glare.  “So, Garbodor, huh?  Was that Kay’s idea?” she asked. 

         Zora snickered, giving her a huge, toothy grin. 

         “I’ll take that as a yes,” Cynthia said, leaning back and looking over to Diantha.  “Kay is my younger sister.”

         She was grinning.  “I haven’t met her, but I like her already,” she said, watching Zora approach her.  With a few sniffs, Diantha offered her hand out to her, which Zora then rubbed her face against.  As she ruffled the creature’s fur, she looked up to Cynthia.  “I take it you were asking her to change to Garchomp, but your sister anticipated that at some point, and told her Garbodor instead?”

         She nodded.  “I wouldn't put it past her.” 

         Zora snickered again, eating up Diantha’s attention. 

         “Sounds like a yes to me,” Diantha said, finally retracting her hands.  Grabbing her poké balls from the tray, she stowed them away in her purse. 

         Cynthia did the same, holding out Zora’s poké ball to her.  She rolled her eyes, but was recalled without further protest. 

         “While she may not have anticipated it happening for a battle between us, at least you were fortunate in using a pokémon I thought would be weak to Psychic.  That bought you time.”

         “True,” Cynthia said, putting away Zora’s capsule in her pocket.

         With a stretch of her arms, and a glance at the clock on the wall, she returned her attention to Diantha.  “Well, since you took me to lunch, how about I take you to dinner?” she offered, suddenly realizing how hungry she was.  They had missed their lunch break, heading straight for Driftveil.  

         “I would like that,” she responded. 

         Cynthia began to stand up from their table.  “I’m assuming you know Nimbasa and Castelia better than me, so if there’s anywhere you would like to go, I’m open to anything.” 

         It was a simple thing to be offered to pick where they would go, but it was one she was eternally grateful for.  “Actually, I overheard Elesa once talking about one of the places that opened up here in Nimbasa sometime last meeting.  I’ve been wanting to try it since.  I believe she said it was called Fido’s?  Their logo is a green Growlithe, and I remember where she said it was at.”

         “Works for me.  Anything special about it?” she asked, watching her straighten out her shirt as she stood. 

         “She was talking about how they have a lot of vegetarian options, and while I am not strictly vegetarian, it is a preference,” she explained. 

         She nodded.  “We have that in common, then.”

         “Good to know.” Though, maybe she was just excited to find any common ground with her. 

         The night air had cooled even more from when they had entered the pokémon center.  It took Diantha by surprise, causing her to visibly shiver. 

         Noticing her shiver, Cynthia immediately took off her jacket.  “Here,” she said, handing it to her.   

         She shook her head.  “You don’t have to do that, I’ll be fine, darling.”

         She kept her hand out.  “I’m only wearing it for the weight.  It’s way warmer here than it was in Sinnoh, so I’m used to it.” 

         As she was going to protest once again, a quick gust of wind ran up her back, forcing her hand.  “Thank you, dear Cynthia.”

         She shrugged, watching her pull her jacket over her.  It was oversized, but in a way Cynthia realized she found cute.  She took a step forward, trying not to think about that, or the way a simple endearment sounded. 

         By the time the night was over, a pleasant dinner behind them, and they were back in Castelia, Diantha found herself yawning at just about every other minute.  The wind had picked up, and it was the one of the only things keeping her awake.  The other being Cynthia’s arm around her, something she was beginning to struggle with not thinking too much about. 

         Touching down at her apartment’s building in northern Castelia, Cynthia was again the first to get off, offering her a hand down. 

         “Well, Cynthia,” she said, taking her offered hand.  “Again, I am sorry for how the morning started, but I have to say that I am glad we’re on better footing with one another.” 

         “Me too.” 

         Her anxiety wasn’t going to just disappear, but she had been given a strategy to deal with it, and at least had the confidence that she was going to be able to get through things.  With Diantha’s help, things were bound to get better. 

         About to step back, a goodbye on her tongue, Diantha took notice of the jacket still around her, and that she still had a hold on Cynthia’s hand. 

         With hesitation she hoped wasn’t noticeable, she took her hand back, and began to take off her jacket.  “Oh, right, here.”  She stopped when Cynthia held up a hand. 

         “You can give it back tomorrow.  It’s fine,” she said.  She was still plenty warm, and the temperature out in Undella was going to be even warmer than the city. 

         Too tired to dispute it, she pulled it back over her shoulders.  “I’ll see you in the morning, then, dear Cynthia.”

         “See you.” 

         Diantha stood a little longer outside, watching Cynthia and Braviary take off.  Walking inside the complex, the door was opened for her, and the entire way up to her apartment, all she could think about was getting to sleep.  Along with the lingering feeling of Cynthia’s arm around her. 

         As the door opened to her floor, she shook her head, chastising herself for thinking about it. 

         In the middle of getting ready for bed, while brushing her teeth, her phone began to vibrate on the countertop.  The caller ID said it was Mel.  Her whole body sighed at the realization.  She just wanted to finish brushing her teeth and go to bed. 

         With a quick rinse, she slid to answer, hitting the speaker button.  “Hello, darling,” she greeted, wiping down the counter. 

         “Hey, babe,” he responded. 

         Their conversation was casual, albeit mostly one-sided.  She wanted to tell him about her victory over Cynthia.  After all, she was proud of herself and her pokémon, and yet, for the entire conversation, she could hardly get a word in edgewise.  He was far too excited about the project he was about to start on. 

         By the time they had said their goodbyes, she had only just managed the energy to dress down to her camisole and throw on some sleeping shorts. 

         Cynthia’s jacket was strewn across the foot of her bed, waiting to be placed in a more proper location.  The second it was in her hand, she made the decision to just throw it on, crawling into bed, too tired to reason anything else. 

         Her last thoughts before finally falling asleep lingered on the fact that Mel hadn’t even asked how her filming was going, and the soft smell that lingered on Cynthia’s jacket.

         What the exact scent was she wasn’t sure, but it was warm and pleasant…

 

– – – –

INT. ELIZABETH’S SHOP. DUSK

Things are quiet in the dimly lit shop.  The few workers that Elizabeth has are nowhere to be seen. 

Watchog walks with Scarlet into the main body of the shop.  He chitters, acting like he’s holding a real conversation with Scarlet.

She smiles at the pokémon, making mindless chatter with him. 

Watchog leads Scarlet to the back room, where Elizabeth is leaned against a car that has a thick tarp over it. 

Scarlet still wants to keep up appearances, so she stops at the room’s entrance, crossing her arms. 

SCARLET  
So, Elizabeth, what is so important that you had to call me out here so late in the evening?  
Alone, at that? 

Elizabeth shrugs, kicking herself off the car. 

Watchog walks over to Elizabeth.  She absently pets him.  

ELIZABETH  
Can’t I want to see my partner in crime now and then? 

Scarlet carefully begins to walk closer. 

SCARLET  
Yes, but normally there is a crime that has to be involved.  
(stopping in front of her)  
What’s this really about, Elizabeth? 

Elizabeth gives her a noticeable look-over.  Scarlet uncrosses her arms. 

Watchog senses a change in the atmosphere, exiting on his own accord with a little chuckle. 

ELIZABETH  
(leaning in)  
I think you should have a…different experience with me. 

Scarlet takes a shallow breath, one of the few times she expresses visible nervousness in front of Elizabeth. 

Before she can say anything in response, Elizabeth steps back to pull the cover off the car. 

Hidden underneath is a slick, two-seater black car.  Freshly cleaned and waxed, it looks out of place with the other cars in the building. 

Scarlet begins to walk around the vehicle.  Elizabeth just watches her. 

SCARLET  
My.  Where did you get this? 

ELIZABETH  
(shrugs)  
I keep it for myself, usually. 

 SCARLET  
(from the other side of the car)  
Usually?

 ELIZABETH  
Usually.  
Thought I’d share this with you, though. 

Scarlet walks back over to her, a bit of a saunter in her step.

In front of her, she stands much closer than before. 

SCARLET  
Elizabeth Park, are you getting soft on me? 

Elizabeth moves to press her up against the car’s passenger door.  She reaches a hand around her, making sure she still leaves Scarlet with an out. 

Scarlet tries to remain confident, but her anxious breathing is noticeable to both of them.     

ELIZABETH  
(leaning in again)  
Call it what you want, babe. 

Scarlet leans up, but is distracted by Elizabeth pulling up the door’s lock. 

Elizabeth laughs low, stepping away from her to walk towards the driver’s side. 

ELIZABETH  
(CONT'D)  
Let me take you on a ride, Kiss of Death.  
I’ll make it worth your while. 

Scarlet composes herself, getting in the passenger seat. 

SCARLET  
I guess I can indulge you just this once…but just call me Scarlet when it’s just the two of us. 

Elizabeth laughs to herself, hopping in the car with her.  

– – – –

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //so call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to~~ 
> 
> EDIT 4/27/19: http://fav.me/dd584ew  
> Some absolutely Gorgeous fanart was drawn for me, and I just want to make sure you all see it, too~~  
> Thank you again, Trish, you're an absolute dear ;v; 
> 
> I can't tell y'all how much your support means to me!! ;w;  
> This is such a rarepair, and both their generations are getting older and older, so it just means the absolute world to me ;v; 
> 
> I hope that battle wasn't too long. As someone who used to write 10k battle scenes (sOMEHOW????) I'm never good at judging that kind of thing. I also hope you enjoyed Rosa~~  
> Hopefully we'll see her again sometime~ 
> 
> anyways, the next chapter is going to have some heavy stuff in it, and those things will carry into the rest in ways, but after that we're going to get into the more fun stuff as well :)c ;)c 
> 
> feel free to come pester me on twitter: @vfw2a  
> or on tumblr: @supercorpd
> 
>  
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER:  
> -Sexual Harassment  
> -Mentions of an eating disorder


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the ugliness of Hollywood is apparent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> Alcohol (Some casual drinking)  
> Mentions of an eating disorder  
> Sexual Assault (A character gets groped)

 

 

            Finally dressed in Elizabeth’s clothes, Cynthia waited in her makeup chair for Dezerea to get things set up. 

            “Thankfully,” she began, popping one of the hair ties around her wrist.  “I think I’ve got this look down, so I’ll have you ready in no time.”

            Cynthia nodded, trying not to grimace.  It was more or less her fault Dezerea had repeated this look more than necessary. 

            In the middle of her working, the two of them talking about nothing in particular to pass time, Cynthia’s phone rang from her pocket. 

            Pulling her phone out, she looked up to Dezerea in the mirror.  “Would it be okay if I took this and put it on speaker?  It’s my manager.”  She didn’t want her phone to risk getting in the way of her work. 

            She nodded, still looking intently at all the hair in her hands.  “Go for it.  I’m not paying attention to anything other than your mane right now.”

            Sliding to answer, she was quick to hit the speaker button.  “Hey, Mandy,” she greeted.  She hadn’t spoken to her properly since the morning she left Sinnoh, so the thought of hearing her familiar voice was at least comforting. 

            _“Hey, so, I’ve got Aaron, Flint, and Lucian with me here on speaker, is that okay?”_ she asked.

            Cynthia laughed lightly, trying not to react too much as Dezerea then began to pull her hair up into its ponytail.  “Sure, what’s up?  Lucian didn’t lose, did he?”  She also thought to ask where Bertha was, but figured it would get answered sooner or later. 

            _“I am offended that_ you _of anyone would insinuate that,”_ he responded.  His voice was a little distant, but grew louder as he likely walked towards the phone. 

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, wincing as Dezerea yanked at a knot in her hair.  She peered around her head, mouthing “sorry” in the mirror. 

            _“So, is a funeral in order or what?”_ Flint asked. 

            This was not how she had envisioned the conversation going.  She figured Mandy was just wanting an update on how things were going, not getting harassed by her league members.  “What is this even about? A funeral?” she asked.  Their voices were too casual for anything to be of concern, but it was annoying her. 

            _“Girl!”_ Aaron butted in.  _“Your fucking win streak!”_  

            There was laughter on their end, and she thought to hang up right then and there.  Instead, she just lowered the speaker volume.  “Oh, spare me.”

            _“You go off to be a big-time actress, and what do you do instead?  Get your ass kicked on live television?  Live…livestream?  Whatever!  You got your ass kicked!”_ Amanda spoke.

            There was a laugh from Dezerea.  “Oh, you got your ass kicked?”

            “No!”  She defended, watching as she walked around her chair to stand in front of her.  “I held my own!  I almost beat Diantha!  She had to use mega evolution to beat me!” She wasn’t even sure why she was defending herself.  She had been fine with the loss, but was now thoroughly embarrassed. 

            Dezerea’s dark burgundy lips curved into a smile.  “Sounds to me like you still got your ass kicked,” she teased. 

            Aaron’s laugh could be heard.  _“I don't know who’s talking, but I like them!”_  

            “This is Dezerea, my stylist, and you all are making me really regret answering this,” she introduced. 

            Dezerea leaned back up against the vanity.  “Hey, Sinnoh League!” She then looked to Cynthia.  “Gotta admit, you’re probably the coolest person I’ve done hair and makeup for,” she said. 

            Her cheeks warmed at the compliment, but she told herself that it was still from the embarrassment at the hands of her league. 

            “So, why do you all know about my loss, anyways?” Cynthia asked, hoping to steer the conversation away in some sort of direction, but failing miserably. 

            Mandy answered her.  _“Oh, you sent me that text, and I knew you were gonna get through to the finals.  I just waited until this morning to watch your final match, and then you lost!  To Diantha!”_

            _“And then I–“_ Flint followed _“–walked into her office to ask her to arrange something for me just as her jaw was about to hit her desk, and then I watched you lose and you know I can’t keep my mouth shut!”_

            Dezerea kicked off the vanity, walking back around her.  “I’m gonna get working on the grease.  Hopefully this’ll be the last time I have to do this for a while,” she joked, lightly smacking her arm with the hairbrush. 

            For everyone’s sake, she hoped so as well.

            “So, if you all are just calling to make fun of me, I’m hanging up.  I have to be on set here soon.”

            _“Fine!  Let me know if you need anything, and try not to get your ass kicked again_!” Amanda said.   

            With a goodbye to her league, she hung up, then placing her phone on silent.  It wouldn’t go with her on set, but she figured it was probably best to do that, regardless. 

            “Alright, you’re good,” Dezerea said, stepping back from her work after a while. 

            Cynthia gave herself a quick look over.  At this point, she was starting to get sick of the look and feel of all the fake grease covering her.  Thankfully, not many other scenes required her to look so grungy. 

            “Thank you, Dezerea.”

            She put her hands on her shoulders, looking down at her through the mirror.  “You can thank me by making sure you get this scene done this time,” she joked.  “Getting real tired of dirtying up your pretty face.” She quickly retracted her hands, taking a large step back.  “Sorry!  That was probably too much–“

            Cynthia laughed, amused with how she ended up flustering herself.  “It’s fine, Dezerea.  I took it as a compliment.”

            She laughed nervously, still keeping her distance.  “I’ll just get out of your hair –literally.” 

            Any other time, Cynthia might have found herself as equally flustered, but with how Dezerea usually projected nothing but confidence, Cynthia could only be amused by the whole situation. 

            With Dezerea out of the room, she figured she had only a handful of minutes before she would be called on set. 

            Alone, she felt anxiety quickly creeping up on her.  Not wanting to give in to it, she forced herself to start the breathing exercises Diantha had done with her the previous day. 

            By the time she was called to head out, she felt at least ready enough to take on the challenge.  She would get through the day. 

            Once on set, Watchog was quick to run up to Cynthia, chittering excitedly.  “Morning, Tango,” she greeted, reaching down to pat his head as they walked towards the directors. 

            Lita shot her a smile.  “Everything good?” she asked. 

            Cynthia nodded.  “I’m feeling far more confident than I was the other day.” 

            Tom adjusted himself in his director’s chair.  “Good.  I want to see real progress, okay?”

            “Understood.”

            She was confident, in herself and in her lines, she reminded herself.  She knew what she was doing. 

            “Ready when you are, my darlings,” Diantha said, approaching the group with Alexander at her side. 

            Tom clapped his hands together, raising his voice to address everyone in the room.  “Let’s get this done!  Get in your places.”

            With that, everyone began to walk off to get where they needed to be. 

            Diantha flashed Cynthia a red smile, which she was quick to return before returning her attention in front of her.  Walking into something wouldn't set a good tone for the day. 

            Kneeling down between the cars, she took a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds, before exhaling. 

            _Everything is going to be fine.  I know what I’m doing._

            “Quiet on set!” 

            Cynthia felt her whole body flush with anxiety; praying she could work through it. 

            The clapperboard followed the scene and take numbers, and as before, with it, adrenaline pumped through her veins. 

            Watchog again placed a paw on her arm, making a visible breathing action, as if to remind her to do the same. 

            The familiar sounds of Alexander and Diantha’s footsteps into the room echoed around her.  “Elizabeth!” Alexander called. 

            She spared a glance at Watchog, a smile on her face. 

            She was confident. 

            Hauling herself up, she reminded herself to seem somewhat surprised to see them.  Elizabeth hadn’t been expecting Charles to follow up on whatever their initial conversation had been. 

            Reaching for the towel to wipe her hands on, she moved to step around the car.  “So, you were serious?” she asked, giving Alexander her attention.  As before, it was hard to ignore the look-over Diantha was giving her. 

            He grinned at her, shrugging his shoulders in a playful manner.  “Do I seem like the kind of man who would lie?” he asked. 

            She breathed a laugh, tossing the towel onto a bench.  It was a little delayed, but not enough to be of much concern.  “You are the man with a $10,000 bounty on his head.  I’m sure it comes with the territory,” she said dryly. 

            He shoved both his hands into his pants pockets.  “Fair point.”  He then turned towards Diantha, nodding his head in Cynthia’s direction.  “Scarlet, meet Elizabeth Park.  The answer to all our problems.”

            He had missed a word, but no deal was made of it as they continued on.  A confidence booster. 

            Waving for Watchog to join her, she walked closer to them, and Klinklang hovered off just to the side. 

            She smirked, returning the lookover Diantha had given her.  The line suddenly felt easy, as if it was just playful banter with a friend.  “Well, well, well.  The Kiss of Death herself.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

            She offered out a hand to Diantha, who reacted perfectly with disgust at the faux grease that still covered them. 

            Diantha gave her another look-over, this time appearing less interested than before, then looked up to Alexander, her voice lowered.  Which, in some ways, Cynthia found amusing, because she could clearly still hear her. 

            “A woman with a Watchog?  You’ve got to be kidding me.”

            She allowed herself to laugh naturally, Watchog snickering along with her.  She took her hand back.  “Think I’m not fast enough for you?”

            “Hardly,” she scoffed. 

            “Trust me, babe.  If I’m not fast enough for you, I’ll turn myself in.”  Terms of endearment were never Cynthia’s thing, so it presented her with a small challenge to keep the grin on her face through the whole exchange. 

            She persisted.

            With a quick nod of her head, she motioned for the two of them to follow her towards the back room, making it the first official time they made it to the actual cutoff. 

            “Cut!” Tom called, a tinge of delight in his voice.  “Get the next shot in place!”

            The camera crew moved around, getting in position so nobody would be in the others way for the next scene. 

            “Keep up the momentum!” Tom encouraged. 

            Cynthia nearly jumped as Diantha grabbed her hand, offering her a quick squeeze of assurance.  “Excellent work so far, darling,” she said, just as quick to let go. 

            “Damn good momentum,” Alexander commented. 

            “Quiet on set!” Lita again called the scene numbers, and it was unexpectedly refreshing to hear different numbers. 

            They began to walk into the back room area, Klinklang joining up on Cynthia’s other side. 

            The car itself was from the 50’s, despite the era they were portraying being closer to the 20’s.  A black Cadillac that showed considerable age, but fit the scene well. 

            Diantha followed closely, making sure to act appropriately unimpressed with the car in front of her. 

            She looked to Cynthia, who was already leaning against the hood with Watchog, Klinklang hovering away from the car. 

            “Are you sure this thing is fast enough?  Looks like a hunk of junk, to me.”  She then looked up to Alexander, pointedly adding, “No better than William’s, honestly.”

            He nervously looked away to Cynthia, as if to beg her to back him up in some way, or at least explain why he picked her of all people. 

            She laughed lightly, giving her a look over that could easily fluster any seasoned actress.  Which it did.  “I’m not giving away my secrets until I actually have your trust,” she said. 

            Returning the look-over one last time, just the action of allowing herself to quickly trail up her legs and linger in a few places before settling on her face had Diantha feeling some kind of guilty way. 

            Angling herself away from Cynthia, she looked up to Alexander.  “She gets one shot.”  She then leaned in, adding, “And if she fails to impress me, _you’re_ going the way of William.”  Later editing would make it more obvious that Elizabeth wouldn’t actually overhear that line. 

            Alexander laughed nervously, taking a step back from her. 

            Secretly, Diantha did wish she was actually as intimidating as the woman she was portraying. 

            “Now,” she continued. “Get me out of here before the smell of oil soaks into my good coat.”

            They both turn away fully, intent on walking back towards the first room. 

            “It’s been lovely, Kiss of Death,” Cynthia said, realizing there was something mocking in her tone.  Maybe it worked.  Maybe not. 

            Diantha slowed her pace.  “I’ll return the sentiment once you’ve impressed me.”  She then stopped to throw a look over her shoulder.  “And know I have very high expectations.”

            They walked off into the main room, stopping when Tom enthusiastically called out, “And cut!”  The clapperboard followed, and she had never been more relieved to hear the sound.

            Walking off set together, Tom and Lita were quick to greet the three.  Though, their focus was more on Cynthia.  “Holy hell!”  Tom said.  “I don’t know what you two did, but I’m very glad you did it!” 

            Lita nodded.  “That one run was far better than all of the past few days combined!” 

            Cynthia let go of a sigh.  “I’m glad you think so,” she said, doing her best to keep her anxiety out of her voice.  She had been able to do so once things got moving on set, but now that the cameras had stopped rolling, it was creeping back in. 

             Excitement and relief were evident in Tom’s tone.  “We’ll run that back again.  I want us to get the best take possible.  This time, Cynthia, I want you to _really_ haul yourself up from the car.  Elizabeth has been working hard all day, and it’s all she ever does.  And for both of you, I think you need to exaggerate your look-overs a little more.  Towards the end there, Cynthia, you had it down.  And Alex, watch the body movements.  Other than that, that was incredible!”

            Making a mental note to herself, Cynthia felt the tension easing out of her shoulders.  She had done it.  She had finally gotten through the first scene they were filming.  While there were likely many retakes in her future, she had gotten through at least the first one. 

            “Gotta ask,” Alexander said, looking between Cynthia and Diantha.  “What the hell did you two do?  Thought for sure I was going to have to get between you two yesterday.”

            Diantha almost laughed.  While he obviously hadn’t been her focus, she was pretty sure he wasn’t looking to get between them at all.  Watchog had been the only one to actually do it. 

            Lita and Tom looked on, also interested in the answer. 

            “We handled it like two champions.  We battled,” she simply put. 

            That piqued everyone’s interest.  “Oh, dang!  Must have been a good battle!  Who won?” Tom asked. 

            Cynthia was about to tell him, but Diantha beat her to it.  “It doesn’t really matter, does it?  As you said, it was a good battle.”

            Both directors and Alexander began to laugh.  “Means you lost, huh?” Lita said. 

            Cynthia shook her head.  “No, she beat me at the last second.  Tends to be how most champion battles go.  It’s always down to the wire.”  She wasn’t about to not let Diantha receive credit where it was due. 

            “Okay, Miss Modesty,” Tom joked. 

            She shrugged in response, rolling her eyes in a good-natured way.  “I didn’t want to brag,” she said.  “But yes, I won.”

            “You’ll have to tell us more about it on break!”  Tom said, before taking a step back with Lita.  “But let’s go ahead and take it from the top!” 

            With a nod, the three actors began to head back to their original spots. 

            Watchog scurried ahead, not taking notice that Cynthia had been stopped by Diantha. 

            “Excellent work, darling.” Cynthia hadn’t realized that she missed hearing her regular speaking voice.  “I’m loving your confidence.”

            She smiled, looking away from her, almost embarrassed from the praise.  “Don’t jinx me yet,” she joked. 

            She just shook her head, turning to walk towards Alexander.  “Best of luck, my dear.”

 

 

            With the final call of Cut, and a round of praise from both directors, the studio was alive with an excited energy.  Sheer, unadulterated joy practically radiated off everyone, and with the promise of things starting to move in the right direction, many of the cast and crew had decided a small celebration was in order. 

            “Alexander wanted me to tell you to invite Cynthia to join us!  We’ll all go out for drinks!  First round is on me!”  Michael had told Diantha. 

            She wasn’t entirely sure if any of it was going to be Cynthia’s scene, but there wasn’t any harm in asking.  When she had gone to cast and crew outings on the previous project, she always had a decent enough time.  If nothing else, witnessing Michael and a few of the PA’s drunkenly, and very passionately, sing karaoke was worth every minute of being out late.   

            The second she was in the doorway to Cynthia’s dressing room, her reflection caught Cynthia’s attention.  “Do you have a moment?” 

            She turned around to face her, still wiping her hands down with a makeup remover cloth.  “Sure, what’s up?”

            There was still an excitement in her voice that Diantha found utterly infectious.  The idea of going out tonight seemed better and better.  “I was invited to go with some cast and crew to dinner tonight, and I wanted to extend that invitation to you, as well.”  She leaned against the doorframe.  “Think of it as celebrating getting through this.”

            She laughed to herself a bit, throwing the wipe into a bin before grabbing another off the makeup tray.  “A little early to be celebrating, don’t you think?” she asked, something playful in her tone. 

            Diantha figured it wasn’t an outright no.  “Always celebrate the little things, darling.  Let me buy you a drink for your hard work.  Or something to eat, if you don’t drink,” she quickly amended. 

            “How hard would I have to push my luck to get both?” The thrill of getting through the first official scene was going directly to her head.  She didn’t care how anything came across. 

            Diantha realized it was almost too easy being around her.  “Admittedly, I don’t think you would have to push very hard.” In fact, she probably wouldn’t have to even push at all.  

            She laughed again.  “I’ll settle for a drink.”  She tossed the makeup wipe into the bin, looking over her hands.  It had taken quite a few of the wipes to get all the grime off, and now she desperately wanted to wash them with soap to get the greasy feeling of makeup remover off.  “Any idea where we’re going?”

            She shook her head, pushing off the doorframe.  “No, Alexander won’t make up his mind, and it’s driving me insane.”

            “Think he’s going to pick somewhere you won’t like?” she asked, beginning to pull her hair out of its confines.  The instant relief from letting her hair loose added to her overall euphoria. 

            She shrugged.  “I just have a weird thing about wanting to know the menu ahead of time.”

            She nodded along, running her fingers through her hair, reveling in the feeling, only to wince when she snagged a knot.  The faux grease had dried up well into the day, and was now going to make for a difficult time to comb through. 

            “Do you need some help, darling?” she asked. 

            “No, Dezerea said she’d be right back.  Something about a remover that would get this out of my hair without making it feel greasy.” 

            She laughed to herself, forcing herself to turn away.  “Feel free to invite her along as well.  Alexander said to meet out on the terrace when we’re ready.”

            “Sounds good.”

 

            For the group, Alexander ended up choosing a bar on the east side of Castelia called Lanturn’s Keep.  The bright, neon Lanturn appeared throughout the bar that occupied three floors of a skyscraper.  It was smoky, dark, and the music on the first two floors was far too loud. 

            The third floor at least had access to a balcony, offering some relief from the cigarette smoke. 

            Cynthia and Diantha, after socializing with the group for a while, sat in a booth close to the door, neither in the mood to get pulled into dancing or anything else. 

            A breeze rolled in from the door, sending a chill up Diantha’s back.  Which reminded her that she hadn’t returned Cynthia’s jacket like she had said she would. 

            Hand over the top of her drink, she turned to look at Cynthia.  “So, I realize I completely forgot to bring your jacket back with me.”

            Cynthia’s shoulders rose in a laugh, taking a long sip of her drink.  Something fruity and much weaker than her first.  “Don’t worry about it.  It’s fine,” she said.  Truth be told, she had completely forgotten about it.  Though, an easy thing to do in her current state. 

            “Can I ask what brand it is?  It’s so nicely weighted I think I want one for myself,” she said. 

            Cynthia reached for her phone, having it written down in a note somewhere.  “It’s from Hoenn.  Steven’s big into weighted clothing, and yeah.”  She found the note, passing her phone to Diantha. 

            She looked it over, quick to search for it on her own phone.  “So, you and Steven are pretty close,” she said, keeping her eyes on her phone.  She was going to have a jacket ordered by the end of the night. 

            Cynthia laughed.  “I know that tone!” she said, nudging her.

            Diantha returned the nudge.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            “You want to know if there’s anything between me and Steven,” she continued. 

            “Is there?” she asked, taking her attention from her phone.  The answer she was going to get from Cynthia was suddenly far more interesting. 

            She shook her head.  “No, never has been, and never will be.  We joke around a lot, but despite how well we get along, I’ve just never…I don’t know. I’ve never had romantic feelings for him, and he’s not even someone I’d want to casually hookup with.”

            Diantha was well aware that if she had another drink in her, she would have asked, _“Who_ is _someone you would have a casual hookup with?”_ But thankfully for her own self-preservation, she only had about half a drink in her system. 

            Cynthia continued, “But I can’t tell you how many times we’ve both been asked if we’re together.  Ever since my first international meeting as champion.  He was the first person to talk to me there, and since I was so anxious about being so new to being a champion, I just…clung to him a bit, I guess.  That probably didn’t help any.”

            Diantha laughed lightly, returning to her phone.  “I have the same rumors surrounding myself and Siebold, so I understand.” 

            “I think I’ve heard that, once,” Cynthia said, taking another sip of her drink. 

            Diantha thought to tell her that, the funny thing was that there was someone in her league she actually had slept with before, but the media never caught onto that.  Instead, they chose to keep speculating that there was a relationship between her and a man who was openly gay. 

            She figured they weren’t close enough yet for her to share that story. 

            They fell into a natural silence, listening in to the noise around them.  People dancing, some singing along badly to the music, conversation, and distantly Michael’s voice could be heard from the general direction of the pool tables. 

            “Oh, my,” Diantha suddenly said, frowning at her phone. 

            “Everything okay?” Cynthia asked. 

            She nodded.  “Yes.  It’s just the shipping estimate is three weeks on that jacket.” 

            Maybe it was the alcohol at that point talking, or maybe it was the memory of how cute she found her in her jacket.  “You can hold onto mine ‘till you get yours.”  It was probably a combination of the two. 

            “Darling, are you sure about that?”

            If it wasn’t a combination of the two, it was definitely now linked with getting called ‘darling’ all the time.  “I brought another, so it’s fine.”

            The look Diantha gave her told her she was trying not to laugh. 

            “It’s a good jacket!  You said so yourself,” she defended. 

            She could only laugh at her, hitting the option to place her order. 

            She was about to say something when Dezerea slid into the booth in front of them.  She looked at Cynthia with a grin on her burgundy lips.  “You promised me a game of pool,” she said.

            Wracking her tipsy brain, she remembered saying something along those lines.  “I did, didn’t I?”

            She nodded, pushing her loose braids out of her face.  “Can I steal you awhile?” she asked. 

            Cynthia looked to Diantha, not wanting to just abandon her. 

            She waved her off.  “Go, have fun.  I’ll join you once I’ve had some water.”

            With that, Cynthia slipped out of the booth, walking with Dezerea off into the crowd.  Diantha made sure to note the general direction they were headed in, but remained in her spot. 

            She didn’t _really_ need water, but also didn’t feel the need to intrude on Cynthia’s time with Dezerea.  Especially after seeing how the makeup artist had been giving her a look that flustered even Diantha. 

            She found herself wishing she could at least be in the position to give those looks.  

            Still in her hand, her phone began to ring.  Mel’s contact popped up on the screen.

            For a split second, she realized she could.  In one phone call, she could answer, leave him, and then be free to make eyes at anyone. 

            She pushed the thought aside.  That was a conversation to have with herself when she was completely sober…  

 

 

            With things finally settling into something more regular and consistent, Cynthia found herself easing into everything far better than she thought she ever would.  It was easy to get herself into the schedule of going over the scenes for the next day the night before, and getting in touch with Diantha whenever she needed a second opinion. 

            If filming happened to end at a reasonable hour, they would usually go get dinner together, Cynthia happy to let her pick wherever she wanted to go.  Not having to think about where to go left her with more time to think about things she wanted to ask. 

            Along with that, things back in Sinnoh were running smoothly.  Her league had only received one official summon from a trainer.  Aaron had been quick to deal with them. 

            While she was still worried they wouldn't be able to hold everyone off, it was something she was at least able to refrain from thinking about too much. 

            Instead, she immersed herself in the world of filming, figuring out what she did and didn’t like.  Anything dealing with the green screen was ranked at the very bottom.  At best, the scenes were awkward as hell.  Having to react so dramatically to things that weren’t even present was a pain.  With a little talk from Diantha, she at least wasn’t alone in the feeling. 

            With the end of the third week of filming, a good portion of green screen work had been completed.  There was still more to do, but for now, they were returning to general action scenes, and would soon be moving onto location takes. 

            Thursday quickly came to an end, and instead of plans with Diantha, Dezerea had asked her out.  She tried not to think about any of the implications or possibilities of what could come out of the night, otherwise her anxiety would ruin everything. 

            While waiting for her in the main lobby, Diantha approached her.  “Well, my dear, that was a good day,” she said casually. 

            It had been an easy enough day.  They only had to shoot a small scene from one of the bank heists.  A few of the actors that played the local law enforcement had come in for the day, and the more people there were to coordinate, the slower things went.  All things considered, it was one of the easiest days yet. 

            “I agree,” Cynthia said, adjusting her weight to one foot.  “Have any plans tonight?”

            Thinking she was about to ask her to join her for something, she shook her head.  “No, but I’m afraid it’s because I’m exhausted.  The week three slump is starting to hit me,” she said.  For her, the third and fourth week of filming were always the most difficult to get through on a long project.  The momentum and excitement from starting something new always tended to wear off by then. 

            Cynthia nodded.  “I’m glad that’s a universal thing,” she joked.  “I have plans with Dezerea tonight, and I'm still processing how I feel about that.”  Would she get in trouble for seeing her off set?  Surly not.  She had gone out with other crew members before, as a group. 

            “Oh?” Diantha asked, caught off guard.  “Is there a group going out, or…?”

            She shook her head.  “No, just the two of us.”

            She grinned at her, not knowing what else to do.  “I hope you have fun.”

            She only hummed in response. 

            Briefly, Diantha wondered why Cynthia would be going through with something if she was so anxious about it.  Then again, maybe she was anxious in a good way. 

            She noticed that the two of them tended to get along, Dezerea always stealing her off on her own during group outings. 

            Diantha thought to question her some more, but stopped herself when she heard someone approaching them.

            “Ready to go?” Dezerea asked Cynthia, pulling her old messenger bag across her body. 

            Cynthia nodded, turning away from Diantha. “I’ll see you later, Diantha,” she said before walking away with Dezerea. 

            “Like I said, it’s a bit of a dive bar, but I think you’ll like it!” 

            Diantha stood in her spot, still not quite sure of what to think.  At the very least, she would definitely have to razz Cynthia later, because it was the only thing distracting her from the feeling that had already begun to well in her chest.  It wasn’t a feeling she liked or welcomed.  She reasoned with herself that it was a feeling she shouldn’t even have in the first place. 

            Envy.

            So, forcing it down, she began to head in the opposite direction for a different exit.  Thankfully, the building had plenty of those.  However, as luck would have it, she ended up nearly walking into Alexander. 

            “Hey!  Just who I was looking for!”

            The sour mood she was finding herself in only worsened.  “Hello, Alexander.”  She found herself calling him by his full name to his face as of late.  It was a subtle reminder that they weren’t close friends.  They were on good terms as coworkers, and nothing more. 

            “Me and a couple of the film crew were going to go get dinner.  Wanna join?” he asked. 

            She shook her head, taking a step towards her exit.  “I would, but I’m exhausted, and just want to head home.  Another time, Alexander,” she told him. 

            He smiled at her.  “Oh, come on,” he continued, putting a hand on her shoulder.  He was getting far too touchy lately, but she didn’t want to overreact to nothing.  “It’s just dinner.”

            “Another time,” she repeated, walking away.  It was final, and she wasn’t about to let him try to convince her.  She let her own boyfriend do that more than enough…

 

 

            Up in her apartment, she gathered what she needed to ensure her team was fed for the night.  Just before she could walk out the door, she stopped herself.  Walking back into her room, she grabbed the dark jacket off her bed, throwing it around herself. 

            Dezerea might have had Cynthia for dinner, but she still had her jacket.  It didn’t matter that it was too large on her.  It was warm and well-weighted, and her perfume still lingered on it. 

            A thought that the more she gave credit to, the more pathetic she sounded, even to herself.  She had nothing to be envious about.  She and Cynthia were on good terms.  Maybe even enough to be called friends.  At the very least, they were past amicable coworkers, and it was already more than she could have ever asked for. 

            But as she made her way down to the courtyard so she could release both Tyrantrum and Aurorus safely, all she could think about was the last international meeting, held in Sinnoh. 

            She had so badly wanted to at least talk to Cynthia, hardly having done so up to that point, but she was far more intimidating that she would likely ever know.  And it wasn’t just her prowess on the battlefield, or anything else pokémon related. 

            It was the simple fact that Diantha found her to be every bit her type.  Intelligent, passionate, and it helped that, physically, she was also very appealing.  Diantha would be lying if she said she wasn’t absolutely weak when it came to a tall woman.  

            But the guilt of admitting all of that when she had a boyfriend ate at her constantly. 

            So, instead of confronting that guilt, she had too many glasses of wine over a dinner shared with Siebold, and then complained to him about how gorgeous she found her to be, and that she hated that she could do nothing about it. 

            Siebold had merely given her blunt advice in response. 

            “ _Dump him and talk to Cynthia.  I don’t know what else to tell you.”_

            Even now, as she tried to force the thoughts away, it ended up being all she could think of.  She tried to tell herself to focus on the positives of her situation.  

            Again, they were talking and working together now, and in comparison to where they were during the first week of filming, it was almost a miracle in its own right.  They had fun together on set, able to make light of small mishaps and goofs.  Cynthia came to her when she had a question, or wanted to run an idea by her, or even just to tell her about some mishap during a filming day where they weren’t working together.  

            It was all far more than she could ever ask for. 

            Yet, despite it, she still found herself wishing she were in a position to where she could do something about it –whatever _it_ was. 

            But she couldn't, she told herself.  She had far too much history with Mel.  Four years worth of history.  Despite his many shortcomings, the thought of leaving him for something so superficial left a heavy weight in her chest.  It wasn’t enough of a reason.   

            Out in the courtyard, Diantha set upon her task of tending to her pokémon.  It felt good to finally set down her bag that was weighed with the specialized food for Tyrantrum and Aurorus. 

            Upon being released, Gardevoir, being the loyal companion that she always was, began to help Diantha ration out their servings.  Though, throughout the evening, she stuck a little closer than normal.  Diantha knew it was her way of comforting her as much as possible.  Being so in-tuned with one another, all of her envy and frustration was clear to her. 

            Her pokémon began to dig in eagerly, making grateful noises as they were given their food. 

            Now and then, a few of the complex’s staff would come out to offer their assistance.  Sitting comfortably on one of the lawn chairs, she would shoo them away with a thank you.  For the time being, she just wanted to spend a peaceful evening with her pokémon, listening in to the city outside the courtyard. 

            The cold night air was not aided by the natural chill that emanated from Aurorus’s body.  Pulling Cynthia’s jacket closer to her person, she was momentarily comforted by the warm undertones that still clung to the fabric. 

            Before she could let go of the sigh that had built in her chest, her phone began to ring from her bag.  The tone told her it was Mel.  He was the last person she wanted to speak to at the moment. 

            But, in knowing that, she told herself it was more important than ever to answer.  Not just because he would get frustrated with her if she didn’t, but because it would keep all those thoughts of envy at bay. 

            Gardevoir gave an audible hum as she answered the phone. 

            “Hello, darling,” she greeted as she always did. 

_“Hey, babe.”_

            As always, the conversation quickly dissolved into being one-sided.  Recognizing it early on, Diantha struggled to not let her thoughts stray into where they shouldn't.  With him rattling on about a project she genuinely had zero interest in, it was fighting a losing battle. 

            _“Oh, before I forget!”_ he said, breaking off from the topic he had been on.  _“Wanted to let you know I’ll be in Unova not this coming week, but the next.  Should be in the region for a month or so for our first round of filming.”_

            She perked up at that.  Getting to see him might have been just what she needed.  After all, it had been a few months since they last saw one another in person, both being booked solid for filming matters.    “Really?  Would you–“

_“But, unfortunately, I doubt I’ll be able to make it up to Castelia to see you at all.”_

            As quickly as her hopes were brought up, they came crashing down.  “Then why bother telling me in the first place, Mel?”

            _“Just in case Andrew–“_ His manager _“–says anything to Kathi Lee, and then she says something to you.  Didn’t want you getting mad at me.”_

            He had hardly spared himself that.  “To be honest, I’m mad that you’re going to be in the same region as me for the first time in months, and you’re not even going to try to come see me.  Can you at least tell me where you’re going to be at, so I can try to come see you?”  With no other projects and most weekends off, she had plenty of time to make for him. 

            He made a disapproving sound _.  “I’m going to be pretty slammed, babe.  We’ll be filming at The Motel Bar in Mistralton, and I just don’t know how much time I’ll have.  I’m directing, remember?”_   With how much he brought it up, she had hardly forgotten.  _“I’ll keep in touch, and if I have some down time, I’ll let you know.”_

            “Mel,” she complained, dragging it out. 

            Gourgeist had abandoned her food, coming over to her.  She rested her tendrilly arms on her legs, trying to offer her some comfort.  Diantha put her free hand over them, giving her pokémon a forced smile. 

            By then, the rest of her pokémon had slowed their eating, keeping a careful eye on her. 

            At the very least, she was grateful for their unwavering support.  Even if they didn’t understand every little detail, their love for her brought her comfort. 

            _“Babe, you know that’s the nature of the beast we both work with,”_ he reminded her. 

            She told herself to drop it; to leave well enough alone.  It wasn’t a lie, but it didn’t comfort her any.  If anything, it worsened the weight in her chest. 

            Before she could convince herself to just accept it, “Why?” slipped out, and from there, she couldn't stop herself.  “Why do we keep doing this?  Why do we stay together when we have hardly any time for each other?  Why do I bother with a man who can’t even make an effort to see me?  Why do I bother with a man who enjoys nothing but one-sided conversations –you haven’t even asked how _my_ project is going and I’ve been here for almost three weeks now!”  She felt the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes, making it a challenge to keep her voice even.  “Why?  Why do we do this, Mel?”

            Gourgeist hummed low, frowning up at her, and gripping her hand harder in support. 

            _“Whoa, whoa, whoa!  Diantha, you’re– let’s not get rash here.  Let’s think with a clear head–“_

            “I am thinking clearly!”

              _“No, babe, you’re tired, it’s been a long day.  It’s getting late in Unova, and knowing you, you’ve been up since dawn.  Go get some sleep, and you’ll feel better in the morning.”_

            She let go of Gourgeist’s tendrils, making a flippant gesture with it.  “I highly doubt that will change my mind.”

            He sighed.  _“I mean…I don’t know what to tell you, Diantha.  We both have busy lives, that’s just a fact.  I understood that when I asked you to be with me, and before me, nobody understood that –your words!  Before me, you had nobody, and you were bouncing around from person to person because nobody would commit to you because of your schedule.  I’m the only one who understands, Diantha._ That’s _why we do this.”_   

            Just like that, all the fight in her vanished.  Like he always did, he talked her out of it. 

            “Fine.  You’re right.  I know.  I’m sorry.”  Because she did know.  She knew above all else, leaving him would leave her with nobody. 

            Besides, it’s not like she believed she had anything Cynthia could ever possibly want.  Cynthia might have been every bit of her type, but she didn’t believe she was any bit of Cynthia’s.  She had little in common with Dezerea.  

            _“I’ll call you again when it’s the morning for you.  Please, get some sleep.  You’ll feel better about everything in the morning.”_

            She forced herself to keep all emotion out of her voice.  “Fine.  Goodnight.”

_“Love you.  Get some sleep.”_

            She just barely managed to get the words out.  “Love you, too.  Bye.”

            With a heavy sigh, her head fell back on the chair, and she was now looking up into Aurorus’s eyes.  Her long neck craned over to be in her face, a noticeable chill coming off it. 

            Reaching a hand up, her scaly skin was colder than she expected.  “Hello, darling.”

            She murmured a low, reverberating response.  One she felt in her chest. 

            Sitting up properly, she looked out over her team.  To her biggest surprise, even Tyrantrum had stopped eating.  He was normally a pokémon that couldn't be stopped, no matter what. 

            With a steadying breath, she forced a smile.  “Finish your food, darlings.  I’ll be fine,” she said.

            A few uneasy murmurs of protest was their response, but eventually, they resumed.  Hawlucha grabbed her food, moving closer to sit by Diantha.  She ate in silence, but it was the simple motion that touched her. 

            Looking to Gardevoir, she saw that she hadn’t touched her food at all. 

            “I know it’s not your favorite, but you need to eat, too, dear.”

            She merely stared at her in response.

            Diantha knew exactly what she was getting at.  “I will eat when I’m back in the apartment.”

            It was something that was hard to put into words.  While Gardevoir’s communication with her wasn’t exactly in words or phrases that were understandable in French or English, there was almost a mental weight to it that got her point across. 

            A reminder that she hadn’t eaten since the morning, and even then, it hadn’t been much.

            “I promise you, Gardevoir.  I will be fine.  You can even stay out to see to it that I do eat.”  A mistake in words. 

            All of her pokémon then looked to her expectantly.  They also wanted to stay outside their poké balls for the night. 

            She regretted saying it, because both Tyrantrum and Aurorus couldn't be out in her apartment since they were too large in both height and weight. 

            She sighed.  “I promise, my darlings.  When I finally settle down and have a house designed, I will make sure there is a large sun room, big enough for all of you to be out at the same time.”  Considering both pokémon were over ten feet in height and length, it would have to be quite the sunroom.

            Sirens from a fire engine passing the complex grabbed everyone’s attention.  Once it was out of ear shot, all resumed their eating, Gardevoir reluctantly joining in. 

            Once they were all done, she gave them some individual attention, then recalled them for the night.  Gardevoir helped her collect everything, offering to bring it back up to the apartment with her. 

            The ride up the elevator was in silence, Gardevoir keeping a careful eye on Diantha the whole way. 

            With all their dishes in the sink, Diantha turned to face her pokémon, holding her poké ball out to her. 

            Red light surrounded Gardevoir as she attempted to recall her, but it broke off with a sharp sound. 

            She sighed heavily, placing her poké ball atop the island counter.  “You’re going to protest going in your ball until you see me eat, aren’t you?”

            She gave a strong nod. 

            While frustrated with her pokémon, she reminded herself that it was coming from a place of caring; and from a place of witnessing what could happen if she didn’t keep track of her eating. 

            Headaches that spiraled into lack of energy. 

            Expending far more energy than she was taking in, leading to stomach pains that would bring her to her knees, and nearly fainting anytime she stood too fast. 

            If she was able to keep herself on a schedule of some sort, things would get better and stay steady for a long enough time to maybe fool herself that nothing was wrong, and that it was all just in her head.  But in the middle of a meal with someone, intrusive thoughts, that sounded an awful lot like the voice of her mother, would tell her, _“They think you’re disgusting for eating that.  Stop eating that before you get fat.”_

            It had been phrased in varying ways all her life by her mother, as if it truly was the worst thing a person could be in life. 

            Fat.

            Not mean and manipulative.  Someone who only cared about themselves, and never another person.  Someone who didn’t care who they stepped on to get where they wanted in life.  Someone who refused to show empathy.  Or maybe even someone who took the life of another. 

            No.  None of it could have possibly been worse than being fat. 

            While she knew it was a ridiculous notion, it was hard to shake the things she had grown up hearing. 

            In the year and a half she spent in therapy for her anxiety, she rarely brought up her eating habits.  She would always dodge any questions relating to it by saying she had a high metabolism, or that she had just gotten into some bad habits and nothing more.  It would usually get dropped after that, the only thing her counselor ever pressing on was, _“Would you treat your pokémon like that?”_ in reference to her “forgetting” to eat all day and then eating a lot at night. 

            Her answer was always a firm no. 

            She had then been told to share her meals with her pokémon, because they out of anyone wouldn’t care about what or how she ate.  They wouldn't make comments, or turn up any annoying articles if she got something on her face or clothing. 

            Remembering that, she thought to maybe try working that back into things.

            A low hum from Gardevoir brought her out of her thoughts.  She knew she was starting to spiral into all the whys. 

            “Fine, fine,” she said, forcing herself to begin rummaging around her kitchen for something to put together.

            The sparseness of everything made her realize she would need to put in an order for grocery delivery at some point. 

            With what little she had, she settled for a soup, bread, and some cheeses.  While not the best meal in the world, it was better than some of her “meals”, and would satisfy Gardevoir at the least. 

            Once finished with all preparations, she moved her meal to the balcony, where Gardevoir followed close behind. 

            The city in front of them shimmered under the glow of the nightlife.  Had she any extra energy, she might have taken part of it.  For now, she would sit back and recoup, reminding herself over and over that eating was a good thing.  It felt good to eat.  It would give her energy for later.  Gardevoir was happy that she was eating, evident by the more pleasant energy that was now coming off her in small ripples. 

            Above all else, her mother wasn’t there to berate her for every little thing.  She was far away in Kalos, where she only had to interact with her during family affairs.  Which, thankfully, weren’t going to happen until the end of the year towards the winter holidays, if everything went accordingly.  

            That combined with a comfortably full stomach was enough to elevate her own mood. 

            She and Gardevoir spent a little more time out on the balcony, enjoying the night air.  Eventually, Diantha started dozing off, so she forced herself to get up and take everything to the kitchen.  Tossing it all into the sink with some water and dish soap, it was a problem for the morning. 

            Finally, Gardevoir returned to her poké ball without protest. 

            After getting ready for bed, sleep came easily to her, lulled off by thoughts of what a future sunroom would look like, and what it would feel like to be able to have all her pokémon out for a night. 

            In her sleep, she dreamt of an impossibly large sunroom, filled with lush greenery and a large water feature.  Aurorus and Tyrantrum slumbered by the water.  They were far smaller than their actual size, but since it was a dream it went unnoticed.  Between her pokémon, Cynthia’s Garchomp snoozed away, rolling onto her back to soak up the warmth. 

            A laugh at Diantha’s side caught her attention.  Cynthia stood with her, laughing at something that had been said, but whenever she tried to recall what, she couldn't remember. 

            Instead of trying to figure it out, she went along with it, choosing to instead think about how warm everything felt, and how easy it was to be in her company. 

            When the morning came far too soon, memories of the dreams all but faded away, leaving her with only the vague memory of someplace warm.

 

 

 

            Sitting in the front seat, waiting on Alexander and Braixen, Diantha gave Cynthia a quick look over.  She kept a relaxed grip in the fake steering wheel, her other hand absently petting Watchog as he sprawled out in her lap. 

            “So,” she began, waiting for Cynthia’s attention.  “If I may ask, how was your date last night?”  She might have enjoyed the look on her face a little too much. 

            “I mean, it wasn’t a _date_ -date,” she tried to defend, but Diantha wasn’t having any of it.  Giving her a pointed look was all it took for her to drop the charade.  “It was fine.  We just went out to dinner at a bad dive bar.  Had a lot of fun, but she and I are pretty incompatible in the long run.” Watchog chuckled under her hand. 

            Her answer took her by surprise.  “Really?  If you don’t mind me asking, how so?”

            She shrugged, taking her hand off the steering wheel to rest her arm on the center console.  “We got to talking about how we had both been in weddings recently, and she made an offhanded comment about how she would never get married.”  She shrugged again, smiling down at Watchog, who was eating up her attention.  “I’m definitely not looking to rush into anything, but marriage is something I would want someday.  I don’t need to try to change her mind or anything.”

            She spoke very casually, indicating she wasn’t bothered by it in the least. 

            It left Diantha feeling proud in a sense.  Maybe another emotion –relief?– but she wouldn’t let herself think about it too much.  “I’m very proud of you for that,” she told her. 

            It caught Cynthia off guard.  “Really?”

            “Of course.  I feel like it’s a very ingrained thing in our society to…I don’t know.  Change their mind when it comes to marriage.  Especially if you got along so well, otherwise.”  She had even acted in a movie where that was the whole premise: changing the man’s mind about marriage.  Their characters ended up together, ending with a wedding.  It wasn’t one of her favorite projects.

            She shrugged again.  “There was a time in my life that I would have probably tried that, but I’m just not about that anymore.  I don’t care to try to change someone’s mind about something like that.  While I believe you can grow and change together, I don’t want to gamble on something so important to me.”

            Diantha nodded, satisfied with her answer. 

            “Also, I feel like that sets up a weird dynamic in the relationship right off the bat.  Like, yeah, let’s get into this and all the while I’m going to try to change something you firmly believe in.”   

            Watchog sat up, leaning over the console to seek out attention from Diantha as well.

            She reached over to scratch his chin, earning a happy chitter.  “That’s exactly how I felt when I acted in a movie with that premise!  It’s one thing if, say, maybe I have a weird distain towards ballroom dancing, and a partner wants to help me get over that: fine.  Wanting to change my stance on something that is legally binding?”

            Cynthia laughed lightly, agreeing with her, but stuck on the little detail.  “Do you have a weird thing against ballroom dancing?  Because that was a pretty specific example.”

            She looked away.  “It’s stupid.”

            Watchog crawled over the console, getting completely into her lap, sniffing her over enough to drag a laugh out of her. 

            She ruffled the pokémon’s face, looking over to Cynthia again.  She was leaned on the console, chin resting in her hand. 

            “Let me guess: you’re a really bad dancer?”

            Diantha rolled her eyes.

            “Always stepping on people’s feet?”  Now she was just enjoying teasing her.  “Or, do you end up leading instead?  Did you try to lead a man and he got mad?” More specifically, did she lead _Mel_ once and he got mad?

            That got a genuine laugh from Diantha, Watchog mirroring the action.  “I’ll have you know I am actually quite good at it!”

            “Sure, sure,” she joked, leaning back in her seat. 

            Before she could say anything that might possibly defend herself –though other than offering to dance with her at some point what was there to say?– a very grumpy Alexander came into the room. 

            “Hey, ladies, tell me something,” he said, approaching the side of the car.  He lifted his chin up, pointing to the faint makeup line.  “This ain’t the right shade, is it?”

            Diantha looked him over, quick to make a disapproving grumble.  “No, it’s definitely a shade off.” Though, it wasn’t really _that_ noticeable.  Not enough to cause a fuss over, anyways. 

            He turned away from the car, throwing his hands up dramatically.  “See!  I told you I wasn’t crazy!”  He stormed off back to his dressing room.

            Diantha giggled to herself, looking over to Cynthia, who sat silently, blinking a few times as if to process what had just happened. 

            “And I thought you were the diva.”

            To that, Diantha laughed, throwing her head back into the headrest.  “Welcome to acting, darling.  We’re all a bunch of drama queens.”  


– – – –

PAN IN  
INT. ELIZABETH’S GARAGE – DAYTIME 

The car comes to a stop, Elizabeth triumphantly pulling the keys from the ignition.  Everyone is in good spirits, and Charles is the first to get out of the car.   He heads off to make sure they weren’t followed, Braixen following him. 

CHARLES  
Gonna make sure we weren’t tailed.  Though, with driving like that, I highly doubt it. 

Scarlet and Elizabeth get out of the car.  Elizabeth stands at the font of the car, watching intently as Scarlet saunters up to her, Kirlia at her side, and money in hand.    

SCARLET  
Well, Elizabeth, color me impressed.

 She slaps Elizabeth’s third into her hand. 

SCARLET  
(cont’d)  
I’d be more than happy to keep you around. 

Watchog watches as Elizabeth fingers through her money, only appearing to count it, but she’s not really giving it too much thought.  Being alone with Scarlet is almost an equal reward. 

ELIZABETH  
Glad to hear it. 

SCARLET  
So, are you going to tell me the secret behind your car? I still don’t believe a car like this should be able to move like it did.

 Elizabeth laughs, walking Scarlet around the car.  Klinklang joins them from the back of the shop

ELIZABETH  
Klinklang mostly helps me with the adjustments.  The main thing was just figuring out what the most common car in the area was.  Once I figured that out, I refitted one with a much better engine, and a few other things.   
It also helps to have a few important people in my back pocket.

 SCARLET  
I might have to ask you more about that sometime.

 ELIZABETH  
I might be willing to tell you. 

Scarlet is about to respond, but Charles comes running back in with Braixen, still as excited as before.  He grabs Scarlet, throwing her over his shoulder, and spinning her around, all while laughing.  Kirlia teleports out of the way. 

 Scarlet, however, is not amused.  She lightly smacks the side of his head. 

SCARLET  
Can’t you see I’m talking here? 

He ignores her protest, continuing his laughing.  

CHARLES  
C’mon, doll!  We’re celebrating tonight! 

Scarlet rolls her eyes, but suddenly jumps with a small yelp.

NOTE:  
While it’s only her leg being grabbed,  
from the camera angle it will imply he’s groping her 

SCARLET  
We’ll be–  
(Struggling to get out of his grasp)  
–In touch, Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth only nods, watching as Charles then carries Scarlet away, their pokémon walking beside them.  Once gone, she gives her attention to her pokémon. 

ELIZABETH  
I still think he’s only pretending to be scared of her. 

Watchog crosses his arms, Klinklang spins around, counterclockwise. 

Elizabeth hums to herself, resuming the counting of her money.  To her surprise, it’s an actual even third.  Holding her money up, she looks between her pokémon. 

ELIZABETH  
While I decide what to do about that, how about we celebrate tonight as well? 

Watchog grins, Klinklang spinning around clockwise.

– – – –

 

            The closer they got to their lunch break, the slower things started to go.  Many of the retakes would be ruined by Alexander failing to get Diantha over his shoulder just right.  A few times he even managed to trip over nothing on his run back into the room –much to Cynthia’s inner amusement.

            “Cut!” Tom called. 

            Though, in Cynthia’s personal opinion, the pacing of things wasn’t aided by Lita not being on set for the day.  Tom briefly explained at the beginning of the day that she was sick so it would just be him directing, and she thought that had a lot to do with how slow things were moving. 

            Braixen sighed heavily, voicing the exhaustion Cynthia felt. 

            Diantha grunted as she was put down from Alexander’s shoulder, brushing herself off as she quickly walked away.  Kirlia kept at her side. 

            While Cynthia was sure she was putting off exhaustion, the energy Diantha was putting off read more like tension. 

            Cynthia was quick catch up to her.  “Everything okay?” she asked, keeping her voice down. 

            Diantha shrugged, noticeably refusing to make eye contact.  “I’m just exhausted is all, Cynthia.  I’m fine.”

            Tom kept his eyes on his screen for a few seconds before looking out at his actors.  “Let’s go to lunch.  Take a good hour break, and we’ll come back to this.”

            Frustrated, but not wanting to show it, Diantha only nodded before heading towards her dressing room.  She had planned on having a proper lunch, and maybe inviting Cynthia along, but that was promptly thrown out the window.  All she wanted was to be alone in her dressing room. 

            Closing the door behind her, she turned around, noticing both Kirlia looking up at her.  She hadn’t even realized they had followed her.

            King tilted his head up at her, the mental weight coming across as him asking if she was alright. 

            Diantha knew there was no use in lying to the pokémon.  Being psychic pokémon, they both were well aware of what was upsetting her.  She, however, still didn’t want to draw any attention to it.  She just wanted the day to be over. 

            “I’m fine, darlings,” she said, kneeling down to their level.  “Go back to Camila, and I’ll see you soon enough.”

            Both pokémon nodded, King being the first to teleport away.  Kivalina stayed behind a second longer, looking up at Diantha with concern, before eventually taking her leave as well. 

            Sitting down on the couch with a huff, she kicked off her shoes, bringing her feet up to rest her head on her knees.  Looking up at the clock on the wall, a sigh escaped her. 

            She just wanted the day to be over with…

 

 

            Walking around the car, Klinklang and Watchog close by her, Cynthia kept an eye on Diantha.  “Klinklang mostly helps me with the adjustments.  The main thing was just figuring out what the most common car in the area was.  Once I figured that out, I refitted one with a much better engine, and a few other things.”  She shrugged, looking to Klinklang then back to Diantha.  She lowered her voice just a bit.  “It also helps to have a few important people in my back pocket.”

            Diantha’s eyebrows rose quickly, moving a step closer.  “I might have to ask you more about that sometime.”  

            Cynthia mirrored her step, looking at her with a small grin that was quickly becoming a personal weakness for Diantha.  “I might be willing to tell you.”

             She heard Alexander’s footsteps as he began to run back into set.  She tried to not visibly brace for him picking her up as she was going to respond to Cynthia.  By now, she was getting sick of being spun around, among other things.  His laughter was also grating on her nerves. 

            She just wanted the day to be over.  She wanted to be done with the scene, and wanted nothing more than no risk of another retake. 

            In her frustration, she might have smacked the side of his head a little too hard.  “Can’t you see I’m talking here?” she demanded.

            He continued laughing, facing them so she would still be facing Cynthia.  “C’mon, doll!  We’re celebrating tonight!”

            Braixen made similar barks of excitement, Kirlia teleporting away to her designated spot.  

            Again, she tried to not visibly brace for the feeling of his hand up her skirt on her thigh. 

            Unfortunately, his hand ended up where it wasn’t supposed to be: directly on her ass.  Though, by this point, it was no longer an accident.  Once was an accident.  Five times in one day was intentional. 

            She tried to push through it like before, using everything in her power to not react. She didn’t want to cause a scene.  Nobody else seemed to be aware of what he was doing, so she didn’t believe anybody would be on her side if she did react. 

            “We’ll be–“ she tried to get out of his grasp, desperate to find a way to get his hand off her. 

            When he adjusted his grip on her to keep her in place, she broke, as a surge of white-hot fury swept over her at the feeling of his fingers hooking themselves under her underwear. 

            Cynthia noticed the change immediately. 

            Bringing her hand up, she struck his face as hard as she could from the awkward angle.  “ _Put me down this second!”_

She fell to the ground with a hard thud as he dropped her.  The pain of falling onto solid concrete was ignored, as was Cynthia and Watchog who had rushed to help her stand.  They were the least of her concern. 

            Alexander held his face with his hand, flinching back the second Diantha was in his face.  “Alright!  Five times is more than intentional!”  Her whole body was shaking from the anger and humiliation. 

            Cameras were still rolling, that much she was aware of, and everything had come to a grinding halt to focus on them.  It only added to the humiliation. 

            “Diantha!”  He tried to get a word in, but she wasn’t about to let him. 

            “Don’t you even!” she hissed.  “You have groped my ass five times now, and I believed the first two times _might_ have been an accident, but five times is intentional!”

            Watchog and Braixen placed themselves between the two, Cynthia, Klinklang and Kirlia standing at her sides to offer some sense of backup, but their presence didn’t seem to affect Diantha any. 

            “Hey!  Hey!  Break it up!” Tom yelling, rushing to the two costars. 

            Diantha wasn’t having any of it.  Nobody was going to put a hand on her without her permission and not suffer any consequences.  She was done being passive. 

            Ignoring Tom, she pressed forward, nearly stepping on Watchog’s foot.  “If you even think–“

            Tom grabbed her harshly by the arm, dragging her away from Alexander.  “ _I said break it up!”_

He practically threw her off to two crewmen, barking at them to send her to her dressing room.  They tried their best to coach her back to her dressing room to calm down, but she wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of an easy escort. 

            Still having eye contact with Alexander, she made sure to leave him with a visual that would make him think twice about ever touching her again.  “If it happens again even _once_ I will have my Tyrantrum _bite your hand off!”_

One of the crewmen then began to forcefully drag her off, leaving Cynthia equally furious about how much she was witnessing her getting manhandled.  Especially considering she wasn’t the one who had been sexually assaulting someone.

            Cynthia looked to Watchog and Braixen, who were both looking around all in a panic, then up to Alexander.  All the bad feelings he had been giving her suddenly made sense. 

            He wiped his brow, finally bringing his hands down from a defensive position.  “Crazy bitch,” he muttered, beginning to walk off set.  “It was an accident!” he yelled, knocking over a table of something in his wake. 

            Swept up in the whirlwind of it all, she had to ground herself fast.  She wasn’t about to question Diantha’s judgement.  She knew Diantha knew what she felt, and she wasn’t going to let there be any risk of sweeping it under the rug. 

            Around her, the other cast and crew were abuzz.  She looked down to the pokémon that still stood with her, giving Watchog a quick pat on the head.  “How about you all go back to Camila for now.  I’ll take care of this.”

            They gave her a worried whimper, Klinklang giving more of a soft grind of his gears, but followed her direction, heading off together.   

            She looked around set, quickly laying eyes on Tom. 

            _Of all the days for Lita to be sick…_

            Before she could even get a word out as she approached him, he dismissed her with a flippant wave of his hand.  “Go on break, Cynthia.  I gotta figure out who to send to talk down the drama queen.” He began to walk away from her.  “Arceus, this is why I hate working with her,” he said, thinking he was out of earshot.

            He wasn’t, and Cynthia was not about to stand for it.  “Excuse me?” she said, taking off after him.  “I don’t think she’s being dramatic in the least!  If he’s been groping her, you need to do something about it, because that is textbook sexual harassment!”  More like sexual assault, but she assumed he was a nasty man who would just try to punish her in some way for saying something that sounded stronger. 

            He turned on her, rolling his eyes.  “If I were you, Cynthia, I would worry about bigger things.  Is she gonna pull this shit with you when you two have to get handsy for the bar scene?  During the part where it’s pretty clear your characters are about to have sex?”

            The mere question made her angry enough to feel her blood pressure rise.  “If I did something to her that she was uncomfortable with, I would want her to tell me!  I wouldn't get upset over it –and besides!  We both consented to what happens in the bar scene, and the fade to black.”  Though, it was likely he was a man who didn’t even care about consent. 

            The thought made her skin crawl. 

            She continued.  “During the script meetings, it was stated that he would grab her thigh, but from the camera angle, it would _look_ like she was getting groped.  She didn’t consent to literally getting groped.” 

            There was a warmth from her pocket.  Likely Garchomp’s poké ball. 

            She also had a dragon that would bite off a hand if needed. 

            Tom looked up at her, his face getting red from anger, but she wasn’t about to let him intimidate her. 

            She was a woman who lived every day with a mental illness that tried to convince her life wasn’t worth living, and years ago she had looked into the eyes of Giratina as it threatened to take her and her friend’s life in the Distortion World.

            This sad, pathetic excuse of a man didn’t scare her. 

            “Just go on break, Cynthia,” he said, dismissing her once again. 

            She stood in her spot, planted by anger and frustration.  She knew in her heart that Alexander would get nothing more than a slap on the wrist –if even that.  It’s what happened to any man that dared lay a hand on her when she called them out. 

            Tom yelled for one of the PA’s to go check on Diantha. 

            The PA who happened to be nearest was the one who Cynthia had referred to as Five CDs.  She had finally learned her name the second week of filming.   

            “Kara!” she called out, putting herself right in her line of sight.  It was enough to bring the blonde to a stop.  “Let me talk to her instead.”

            She didn't protest it at all.  “If she needs anything, just let me know.  I’ve…been through this, too so…yeah,” she said, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

            It was a simple admission that broke Cynthia’s heart. 

            Heading to Diantha’s dressing room, the door was closed, and nobody was around.  She knocked softly.  “Diantha, it’s Cynthia.”

            There was a muffled sound on the other side, followed quickly by Diantha opening the door.  She had changed out of Scarlet’s outfit, and was down to a black camisole and leggings. 

            The look of defeat on her face as she stepped aside to let her in, sent a sharp jolt of sympathy pain through Cynthia’s chest. 

            Gardevoir was out of her poké ball, standing with the two Kirlia, and they all looked about as furious as Cynthia felt.  There was a pressure in the room, coming from their general direction. 

            Diantha approached her, seeming unfazed by the pressure.  “Can you go back in for a while, darling? I’m fine being alone with Cynthia,” she asked, looking to her pokémon.  “And you two can go back to Camila.  I’ll be fine.”

            The two Kirlia left without protest, but Gardevoir was a different story. She didn’t look at Diantha, instead keeping her red eyes on Cynthia.  She was sizing her up. 

            Whatever she decided, she eventually returned to her poké ball, leaving them alone, and taking the pressure away with her. 

            Diantha immediately went to the couch, pulling her braid over her shoulder and beginning to undo it.   “I’m…I’m sorry you had to see all of that,” she said, her voice quiet. 

            All of Cynthia’s anger was placed aside, now outweighed by the unwavering desire to comfort her.  “Diantha,” she said, taking a seat on the cushion next to her.  “Diantha, you have nothing to apologize for.  I’m so sorry you had to deal with that.”  She wanted to voice an apology for failing to notice what Alexander had been doing, but she also didn’t want to risk coming off as this being about her.

            Braid half undone, Diantha leaned back, sinking into the couch.  Her voice cracked here and there as she spoke.  “Alexander was so pleasant to work with the last time.  I had no problems with him, and now…” her face scrunched up as she shook her head.  “I just feel disgusting.”

            Cynthia fought the desire to move closer, unsure if close contact would be an okay thing right now.  Sometimes a familiar person was all she wanted after gross experiences, but then sometimes all she wanted was to be left alone.  She would wait for Diantha to let her know what she was okay with.  “I’m so sorry, and I’m so sorry our director is obviously a huge piece of shit.”

            She forced a laugh, wiping the corner of her eyes with a finger, smudging the mascara she wore.  “I was well aware of that coming into this…it’s just…” she crossed her arms, looking at Cynthia in such a way that sent another wave of sympathy pain through her chest.  “It’s just that, as flimsy of a script this is…as derivative as it all truly is, I liked this crew, Cynthia!”

            Palm up, Cynthia offered her hand to Diantha.  She quickly grabbed it with hers, giving it a soft squeeze. 

            “Sure, Tom is annoying on his best days, but it was one of the few times I enjoyed every one of my costars!  And don't get me started on how much I adore Lita!”  She was holding back tears, and it was evident in her voice.  “It’s one of few projects that I just…always looked back on fondly.  I didn’t say yes to this because of the money or the attention.  I said yes because I had enjoyed it so much the first time…and now…”

            She squeezed Cynthia’s hand harder. 

            Cynthia was at a loss of what to do for her.  Sure, she wanted to go find Alexander and let him have a piece of her –and maybe even Garchomp’s– mind. But that wouldn't do anything for Diantha in the long run, other than likely make things worse. 

            “What can I do for you right now?” she asked.

            “I–“ she began to answer, but her voice abandoned her.  Instead, she merely moved closer to Cynthia, resting her head on her shoulder.  “Just…your company is enough, for now.”

            So, together, they sat in silence.  Diantha laced their fingers together, allowing herself to just feel comfort in Cynthia’s presence. 

            After a while, Cynthia rested her head atop hers.  “Just so you know, you’re not alone.  Can’t tell you how many times I’ve had guys grab me.”

            “The sad thing is, no matter how many times it happens, I have yet to just…get used to it.”

            “I’d be more worried if you _were_ used to it.  I don’t want to think about how many times it would have to happen before I just stopped reacting,” Cynthia said. 

            Diantha hummed in response.  “This is true.”

            “It never feels good to be violated like that.  I don’t care if it’s a quick grab or anything.  It all sucks, and it’s not fair, and again, I’m so sorry you put up with that as many times as you did.”  She knew she personally wouldn’t have tolerated it past the first time, but she wouldn't tell Diantha how to react. 

            She nodded.  “Just know, I was completely serious about having Tyrantrum bite his hand off if he tries it again.”

            “And I want you to know that I have your back completely.” She carefully reached into her pocket, pulling out Garchomp’s poké ball.  “She has your back, too.  She’s been hot in my pocket since I yelled at Tom, meaning she’s mad for you as well.  You have two dragons who would bite a hand for you.”

            Diantha passed an amused breath, carefully taking the minimized poké ball from her hand.  It was hot to the touch, but not quite burning. 

            To have their unquestioning support meant the world to her. 

            Sitting together a while longer, Cynthia did her best to keep idle conversation going.  Eventually, there was a knock at the door, distracting the two of them. 

            Reluctantly, Diantha removed herself from Cynthia.  The room immediately felt colder. 

            Letting the PA in, she informed them that the rest of the day had been cancelled, and that Tom wanted everyone to go home for the night.  She said Tom would let everyone know who needed to be on set the next day while he figured out what to do. 

            Quietly, she added that he wanted to see her before she left, but Cynthia heard every word of it. 

            Cynthia rose to her feet once the PA left, eyeing Diantha with concern.  “I don’t want Tom trying to sweep this under the rug.”

            Her shoulders rose in a sad shrug.  “Neither do I, but…it wouldn't be the first time I’ve had a director do that.”  And unfortunately, it probably wouldn’t be the last time it happened, either. 

            “I feel like we need to make sure Lita knows what happened.  Tom might be willing to ignore it, but I’m confident she wouldn't.”  What little respect she did have for the man was officially gone.  He would have to do a great deal to even think about earning it back. 

            Diantha shook her head.  “She wouldn’t, but…I just want to go get this conversation over with, so I’m going to change, do that, and then head home.  I…I don’t have the emotional energy, Cynthia.”

            She nodded, understanding the feeling all too well. 

            On her way out, she stopped, placing a gentle hand on Diantha’s shoulder.  “If you need me for anything, please let me know.”

            She forced a smile.  “Thank you, darling.”

            Quickly changing into something more comfortable, as well as covered her up more, she headed out, figuring Tom would be in his office.  He was there, Alexander standing next to him.

            She kept her distance, the sight of both men upsetting her stomach. 

            “Look,” Tom began after a long, painful silence.  “I don’t care what you do after all of this, but these are the facts: I have no visual confirmation of what did or didn’t happen.  Maybe he was groping you Diantha, maybe not.”

            The mere insinuation that she was lying made her want to lash out.  “I’m well aware of what a hand on my ass feels like, Tom!” she hissed. 

            His expression didn’t change.  “Diantha,” he warned. 

            She crossed her arms, trying to contain how furious she was.  If he was going to stand there and blame her, she was going to walk out and never look back. 

            “Look, it’s just, if this gets out, this whole project is done for.  I can’t recast either of you.  You’re both too well known, and the whole episode centers around a continuation of Scarlet’s story.  The only expendable person here, really, is Cynthia, and even then, we’re already three weeks deep in this.  No matter what, this will wreck both of you if you don’t just agree to put it aside until filming is done with.”

            Diantha felt herself wanting to make the motion of slapping him, too. 

            Forcing the feeling down, she thought on what Tom was really telling her.  The incident wouldn't wreck her career.  _He_ would.  He would bad mouth her to every director between Unova and Kalos, and do whatever he could to make sure she never received work ever again. 

            She turned away from both men, thoroughly done with the day.  “Fine.  I will put it aside until filming is done.”  She then shot Alexander a look.  “But if you even think of touching me off set, or in any other way than the script calls for, not even the loss of my career will keep me from being silent.”

            With that, she left, not emotionally able to handle anything else from them.  The muscles around her face and neck were sore from refraining from crying. 

            In the front lobby, Cynthia had waited for her.  She stood at the front desk, giving attention to Oscar the Audino, who was cooing away as her hand scratched his chin. 

            It didn’t take away the pain and frustration of the day, but the sight at least momentarily made Diantha’s heart happy. 

            “Are you okay?” Cynthia asked, stepping away from the front desk.  She had to force herself to ignore Oscar’s protest coos. 

            Diantha shook her head in a firm no.  “No.  I’m…I feel as though I'm being forced to stay silent, because, otherwise, this whole project is going to be scrapped.  I’ll just deal with it afterwards.  I don’t want to be responsible for everyone here losing their paychecks for this project.”

            “Diantha, you don’t have to do that to yourself.  I–“

            She was quick to cut her off.  “I really don’t want to think any more about this, Cynthia.  I just want to go home, call my boyfriend, and just…be done with it all.”

            Her shoulders slumped.  “Diantha–“

            “Goodnight, Cynthia.” 

            She forced herself to remain where she was, not doing anything else to stop her.  Diantha was hurt and upset, and she wasn’t going to try to get her to change her mind. 

            Footsteps from the main set caught her attention. 

            Looking down the hall, she locked eyes with Alexander.

            Before she could even ask herself what she was going to do or say, she began to walk towards him, guided only by anger for her friend.

            He sighed, rubbing the side of his face where he had been smacked.  “Can you believe– whoa!”

            She stood in front of him, using every bit of her height advantage to intimidate him.  Maybe a part of her was channeling Elizabeth in that moment.  Maybe she had something in common with her character after all. 

            His back hit the wall.

            “Don’t even think for a second I’m on your side.”  She kept her voice low.  She was pretty sure the security cameras didn’t pick up audio, but it was best to play it somewhat safe.  “I’ve had a bad feeling about you from day one, so let me make one thing clear to you Alexander Hayes: If you even think of trying that shit with me? There will be _hell_ to pay.  Unlike Diantha, I literally don’t give a shit if I ever get an acting job ever again.  They could send me home tomorrow and I’ll think nothing of it, _so don’t try me.”_

            She stepped back, but he kept himself firm against the wall, saying nothing. 

            Figuring she got her point across, she began to walk off.  She didn’t need to risk ruffling anyone else’s feathers.  She made her point. 

            Hollywood was turning out to be an absolutely ugly beast. 

 

 

            A few hours later back in Undella, while out on the beach training with Garchomp and Milotic to take her mind off things, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. 

            “Let’s take a minute,” she said to her pokémon.

            They both nodded, Milotic quick to slither off into the nearest tidepool for a soak. 

            Pulling out her phone, she saw it was a text, saying she was needed for filming tomorrow, and what scene’s they would be working on.  Looking up the page number, she then moved to her email application to look for the copy of the script Diantha had sent her. 

            Scrolling down once it had downloaded, she began to read over her scene for the next day.   
 

————

Charles looks over Elizabeth, trying hard to not appear nervous.  There’s still a gun at his side. 

Elizabeth steps forward, backing him against the wall, nonchalant as ever. 

ELIZABETH  
I know you like to think of me as nothing more than the driver, but I think you need to remember exactly why you sought me out. 

A shot of her hand reveals a knife

ELIZABETH  
(cont’d)  
I’m also good at keeping people quiet. 

CHARLES  
I’m not scared of you. 

ELIZABETH  
Maybe you should be.

CHARLES  
You brought a knife to a gun fight, Park. 

ELIZABETH  
And yet I could shove this up through your ribs faster than you could reach for your gun.  
(she leans in, pressing the knife to him)  
I see one more bruise on her, one more instance of you not treating her right, or just something I don’t like in general, well…I’m not about to have the Kiss of Death waste her good lipstick on someone so pathetic.

 She steps back, beginning to walk away.  Before he can even move to reach, with a snap of her fingers, Watchog uses HYPNOSIS, putting him to sleep. 

————

 

 

            A grin has worked its way on Cynthia’s lips as she looked over the scene. 

            Quickly, she looked back over the text to make sure she hadn’t read the wrong section, only to get her hopes up for nothing. 

            The second time reading, she noticed the end was signed with “–Lita P.”

            Cynthia briefly wondered if Lita had been filled in with what had happened, but regardless, she was going to thoroughly enjoy every second of filming.  A first.  It didn’t matter that she had to work on a Saturday.  Nothing could top this. 

            Turning back to her pokémon, she looked over the ocean, taking in the soft sounds of the waves.  “Lita Paterson, you just made me the happiest woman in Unova.”

            She figured she probably shouldn't have felt so excited to get to threaten her costar with a fake knife, but she would take her kicks where she could get them.   

 

 

            Diantha looked to her phone for the time.  It would be just past six in the morning for Mel.  He had definitely called her at earlier times, and besides, it was a bit of an emotional emergency.  She had waited long enough. 

            Hitting call and bringing her phone to her ear, she prayed he would pick up. 

            While waiting, she moved about her apartment, rearranging a few of the shelf decorations, and making a mental note to dust sometime soon. 

            He finally answered, some rustling on his end making it sound as though he was moving around.  _“Babe, you remember we have a twelve-hour time difference right now, right?  Kanto?”_

            “It’s a bit of an emergency, Mel,” she said, coming to a stop by one of the windows. 

_“Everything alright?”_

            Would it have killed him to sound a little more worried?

            “My costar has been groping me all damn day and I’m just– I’m not in a good place.” She could feel the sting of tears returning.  She wanted the day to be over, and now she just wanted her boyfriend to give her a sign that he cared. 

            He hummed.  _“I’m sorry, Diantha.  That happens.”_

            “That–“ _wasn’t_ what she wanted to hear.  “That happens?  Is that–“ she didn’t even know where to begin. 

_“I mean, what do you want me to say?  It happens.  Can’t say I know a single woman in film who hasn’t been groped or harassed in some way.  Comes with the territory, unfortunately.”_

            She grumbled in frustration, moving to pull a chair out from the dining table to sit on.  “You are honestly not helping.”

            _“What do you want me to say?”_ he repeated. 

            “I don’t know!  Something that lets me know you care!  That you’re mad for me!”  Something.  _Anything._

_“I care.  I’m mad for you.  Did your director or producer say anything?”_

            She shrugged, as if he could actually see the motion.  “No, he basically told me to keep quiet about it, otherwise the whole project will be scrapped.  I don’t want anyone to lose their job, but…I don’t know.”  The need to never have to look at Alexander ever again, and wanting to make sure nobody missed a potentially dire paycheck had her at war with herself. 

_“I mean, he’s not wrong.  With how the story is set up–“_

            “You really don’t care, do you?” she asked, forcing herself to sit up.  She searched her own faint reflection in the window, praying for some sign that she was wrong.  All she saw was a terrified and hurt woman looking back at her. 

            The day had already left her emotionally drained and hollow, and maybe it was enough to be tired of dealing with him as well. 

_“Babe, it’s…like, six in the morning. I just woke up.”_

             “Don't act like you haven’t called me at four in the morning,” she grumbled. 

            _“It was an accident.”_

            She stayed silent for a while.  She wanted to think rationally about all of it, but she couldn’t be bothered to do so.  She was worn out, exhausted, humiliated, and felt uncared for.  All of that and she was tired of things being an ‘accident’. 

            “Mel…I don’t think we need to be together.”

            She heard frantic shuffling on his end.  _“Whoa, wait!  Not this again!  Diantha!”_

            “No, Mel –I need to think.  I need to think long and hard about why I’m still with someone who just…makes me feel like he doesn’t care at all.”

            _“Diantha!”_

            “I need to think, and I don’t need to be interrupted by you trying to convince me otherwise.”  With that she hung up.  She didn’t need to risk him even getting a word out that would make her even consider listening to anything he had to say. 

            Putting her phone down on the table, it began to ring again.  She didn’t need to look to know it was Mel.  She silenced it, but it rang again shortly after. 

            Not wanting to risk caving in like she always did, she put her phone into airplane mode, and left it face down on the table. 

            She needed time to think about if she wanted to continue forward at all with Mel, but before that, she wanted to cry. 

            She wanted to hole herself up in her room, crying so hard every part of her body would hurt later from it.  Then, after a few hours of that off and on, she wanted to take a shower that would be hot enough to, if only for a few moments, scald away the feeling of Alexander’s hands. 

            It was what she wanted, and it was what she was going to get. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 5/17/19: https://pucca-art-bloggy.tumblr.com/post/184942682465/cynthia-and-diantha-dressed-up-for-acting-in-this  
> I WAS DRAWN SOME ABSOLUTELY LOVELY FANART BY AN AMAZING ARTIST!!!! Please go check out this wonderful artist ;v; I haven't stopped crying 
> 
>  
> 
> //at this point i can just admit that this is also a bit of a vent fic, right??? anything our ladies are dealing w mental health-wise i've dealt w at one time or another, and so this is a bit of a cumulation of my experiences dealing with it. but that's what therapy is for, so like don't worry or anything aha 
> 
> Fun Fact! A lot of this chapter was inspired by the "original" lyrics to Gorgeous  
> "I've got a boyfriend he's older than us  
> I haven't seen him in a couple of months  
> I go through phases when it comes to love  
> I'm nothing that you'd want but I must say  
> You're so gorgeous..." 
> 
> There's a "The making of Gorgeous" on youtube where she shows the progress of the song, and those lyrics just. RIPPED ME UP MAN 
> 
> But alright. we've got a good chunk of the heavy stuff out of the way. it all will carry through the rest of the fic in different ways, obv, but we're also ready to move onto some more. fun things :)c 
> 
> thank you all for your continued support! i can't believe we've crossed the 55k mark!! in the original nanowrimo draft, where this chapter ends, it was only at 30k so!! yeah!! thanks for hanging with me!! 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR NEXT CHAPTER  
> -Sexual Content ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )  
> -Alcohol (More casual drinking, but again, i'd rather be on the safe side)  
> EDIT 6/6/19  
> Changed that from mild sexual content to just Sexual Content. Whoops! Got a little. Carried away in the next chapter aha~


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Diantha says everything to her face  
> [Because look at her face– it’s Gorgeous]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings:  
> Alcohol  
> Sexual Content  
> (went a little further than I thought I would this chapter, but oh well! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ )  
>  
> 
> Also, for your listening pleasure later on~  
> It's probably the closest I could get speed wise on how I think the piece should be played~  
> https://youtu.be/4-6JVJ1oXRM

            Cynthia stepped forward, digging into her deep coat pockets.  “Got you a little something from the city.”  Pulling out a dawn stone, she intended to slap it into Diantha’s hands.  Instead, it slipped out of her hand, flinging it across the set. 

            “Cut!”

            Diantha started laughing.  “Just throw that at me why don’t you,” she said, speaking in her normal voice. 

            Straight-faced, Cynthia just said, “I meant to do that.”

            It had been a day filled with typical mishaps.  Little things here and there that would go wrong.  One of the fans would get knocked off its spot, blowing Cynthia’s hair into her face.  A few times she had missed Diantha’s hand, practically slamming the stone into the ground. 

            Earlier, they had even discovered that Diantha struggled with the word “rock”, unable to say it just right in her acting voice, which lead to a few laughs and explorations of what other words could she not rid of her accent.   

            The line was, “It’s lovely, but you know this rock is useless to me, right?”

            There were many times she would cut herself short, knowing full well she was about to mess up the word again. 

            Nobody seemed too stressed over the mistakes.  It was an easy day, and the needed take was in there somewhere.  After the hell that had been the previous week, for Diantha, it was a nice change of pace.  Getting to laugh on set over silly mishaps was far more preferable to last week’s events…

 

————

PAN IN  
MOTEL INT. – EARLY MORNING

The lighting is dark.  Early morning rays filter through the cheap curtains of the motel room.

Scarlet moves about the room quietly, while Elizabeth continues to sleep.  Once Scarlet has everything she needs, she goes to her bag, taking out her lipstick to apply a fresh coat to her lips.  After stowing that away, she then pulls out a pair of handcuffs. 

Scarlet walks over to the bed, cuffing Elizabeth to the frame just as she starts to wake up. 

ELIZABETH  
What are you…?

Scarlet smiles at her, placing a hand delicately on her cheek.

SCARLET  
Don’t take it too personal, darling. 

Elizabeth goes to move, realizing she’s cuffed to the bed.  She looks at Scarlet, who begins to straddle her with a wicked grin. 

ELIZABETH  
Scarlet!  What is this about? 

SCARLET  
I’ve decided that it’s in everyone’s best interest that I do things on my own from here on out.  Like I said, don’t take it too personally. 

Carefully, Scarlet leans down to place a kiss on her cheek.  The Kiss of Death. 

ELIZABETH  
(trying to yank her arm free)  
You bitch!  You’re double crossing me! 

SCARLET  
(laughs)  
My dearest Elizabeth, why are you even pretending this is such a surprise?  Think about the place where you first met me.   
(she gets off her)   
Nothing good starts in a getaway car. 

Scarlet grabs the money, steals the keys to her car, and walks out of the room. 

Elizabeth is unable to get to any of her pokémon for help.  She yells out in dismay, but Scarlet ignores her.

————

 

            Back during the first script meetings, both directors had tossed around the idea of having the scene where Scarlet “abandons” Elizabeth and Charles in favor of a large monetary reward being the opening scene.  Tom was more keen on the idea than Lita was.  He was insistent that it would throw off the audience if they were to cut it off just before Scarlet was handed the money.  The scene would then transition into the original opening with Scarlet and Charles making their last getaway with William, with text at the bottom indicating how many months prior it was. 

            Both Cynthia and Diantha had sided with Blair on the matter.  Trying to throw off the audience with something so simple would more than likely just make them skip the episode if they thought they knew the ending already.

            Even as the time had come for the scene to be filmed, nobody was really sure if Tom was going to follow through on it.  Whenever asked, he would just answer, “I’m still thinking on it”, and leave it at that. 

            While that in its own right was frustrating, Cynthia was quickly discovering that the scene itself presented its own frustrations.  Minimal clothing combined with the world’s least supportive strapless bra left her feeling far too exposed. 

            Plus, having Diantha straddle her off and on throughout the day was flustering her in a way she wasn’t expecting.  In hindsight, she realized, she should have expected half as much, but it was only the night before as she read over the lines for the day that she realized there was a chance she was going to get flustered. 

            The anticipation of being flustered did nothing to help her in the moment.  As didn’t the amount of times Diantha had to kiss her cheek to get the perfect kiss mark for the camera to focus on.  Once that was out of the way, the remaining camera angles for the scene wouldn’t see it, so it had been wiped off, leaving Cynthia with only the memory of how soft her lips had felt against her cheek. 

            Somewhere in the back of her mind, Cynthia remembered going over separating the emotions of her character from her own during her crash course with Beatrice. 

            The way Diantha moved so fluidly as she straddled her again for the take, combined with the look in her eyes, promptly threw that whole lesson out the window.  No matter how many times she repeated to herself to separate the emotions, or tell herself _“these are Elizabeth’s feelings, not my own”,_ none of it ever put out the fire that was slowly building. 

            “I think I’ve decided that it’s in everyone’s best interest that I do things on my own from here on out.”  Diantha leaned in, enjoying the way Cynthia was reacting below her just a little too much.  Framing her hips with her legs with far too much purpose was a little too entertaining.  It was all too easy to tune out the crew around them, looking at her as if they truly were alone together in some skeevy motel room.  “Like I said, don’t take it too personally.”

            Cynthia leaned up into her face, barely a breath between them.  She yanked her arm from the handcuff, causing a rattle from the bedframe. “You bitch!"  The cuff itself was minimally padded, leaving her with a dull ache in her wrist, as well as a revelation of sorts that she would have to think about later.  “You’re double crossing me!”

            Diantha leaned back, laughing, this time going off the direction she had been given.  Grabbing a long strand of Cynthia’s messy hair, she carefully twirled it around her fingers. 

            Cynthia’s breathing was shallow, and maybe it was just wishful thinking on Diantha’s part, but she could swear that she was reacting a little more with each take.  Leaning in closer when she had to get in her face, to when she had accidentally ground on her far more than necessary but was immediately met with a sharp breath and a heavy blink that told Diantha she was struggling to stay in character. 

            “My dearest Elizabeth, why are you pretending this is such a surprise?  Think about the place where you first met me.”  Letting go of her hair, she started to remove herself from her lap.  “Nothing good–“ She stopped short with a yelp.  Instead of getting off with her usual grace, she snagged her foot on the blankets, causing her to fall onto the wooden floor with a hard thud. 

            The set around her erupted into laughter, somewhere in there Lita calling “Cut”. 

            Face red and hot from embarrassment, she rolled onto her back, covering her face with her hands.  Peeking through her fingers, Cynthia was leaned over as best she could, looking down at her. 

            “I would love to help you up, but you did a great job of handcuffing me,” she joked. 

            Covering her eyes once again, she groaned.  “That’s fine.  I want to lie here in my shame, anyways…”

            She told herself it was probably what she deserved for coming onto Cynthia so strongly.  Especially considering it wasn’t even a sexual scene.

            “Hope you know that’s gonna be the first thing on the blooper reel!” Tom said from across the set. 

            Just what she wanted to hear…

 

 

            Sitting out on the lanai, listening to the ocean was about all Cynthia could do to continue her weak attempts at forgetting the day’s events.  Even now, many hours after they had been finished filming for the day, she could still feel the weight of Diantha straddling her if she thought about it too hard.  Or at all, really.

            Frustration sat low and hot on her, but any time she thought about taking a hot shower or something else to alleviate the problem, it would just lead her to chastising herself for even the mere thought of it. 

            She had told herself over and over again that she shouldn't have gotten so worked up over nothing.  Diantha hadn’t meant anything with her lines or how she was behaving.  She was just a good actress.  An excellent actress.  A convincing actress.  An actress who could probably separate the emotions of her character and her own.

            Cynthia had tried her hardest to distract herself from the feelings by doing chores she had been avoiding for a while now.  Her laundry was done and hanging in the closet, sheets and throw blankets had been washed, and the villa itself had been cleaned over thoroughly –something she couldn't even say the same of for her own home.  

            None of it was enough to take her mind off it completely.  Now all she was left with was a clean living space, and an even stronger frustration. 

            Reaching over to grab her glass of water, picking it up left her hand slick with the condensation that had built on the cold glass.  Something about it was enough to tip her over the edge. 

            With a grumble, she set the glass back down, heading in from the lanai.  Sitting around telling herself not to think about what had happened only made things worse.  There was a clear solution, and she was over ignoring it.  So long as she pushed away all thoughts regarding Diantha, it would be fine. 

            _Right?_

            Despite being completely alone in the villa, she slammed the door to the master suite behind her; everything bathed in the low afternoon light that filtered through the thin curtains, casting everything in a wash of orange. 

            Normally, she would sleep on the right side of the king-sized bed.  Instead, she situated herself on the left side, tossing the majority of the pillows off to the floor.  She could get frustrated about having to pick them up later.  For now, she just wanted to be able to lie on her back. 

            The room around her was already far too warm.  Before laying down she ripped off her shirt and the camisole underneath, tossing them on top of the pile of pillows.  The sleeping shorts she had changed into earlier were quick to follow, leaving her in just her black bra and underwear.   

            Falling back onto the mattress, she was content to revel in the feeling of air on her bare skin. 

            After being worked up all day and denying herself any relief, she allowed herself to be more vocal than she typically would, a breathy gasp the second her hand dipped below her underwear.  Light pressure and a few quick circles to her clit, warmth slowly crept over her body, making the room around her almost uncomfortable.   

            Typically, it wasn’t something she was into doing for herself.  She preferred it when it was someone else’s hands doing the work, but a cursory test of one finger inside her led to two, telling herself that penetration was exactly what she wanted in the moment.  A heady groan and she worked up a slow rhythm.  She didn’t want the experience to be over and done with.  She wanted to draw it out as long as possible, savoring it. 

            The dull ache in her wrist brought her back to that goddamn handcuff.  All day she had forced any and all thoughts regarding it away, not needing anything extra on the pile of things that were bound to make her break character sooner or later.  But now she was free to indulge in those thoughts, allowing herself to explore precisely _why_ she had liked it so much. 

            She knew she liked having as much control as possible in nearly all aspects of her life.  The thought of relinquishing that control in any sense was foreign to her, but maybe that’s what made it so enticing.  Particularly when it was the thought of giving that control up to–

            _Diantha._

            “Fuck, no–” she hissed, removing her hand, and forcing herself to even out her breath.  Below her breast her heart still hammered away, and she could feel a thin sheen of sweat across her body. 

            She had told herself she wouldn’t think about her during any of this.  That was forbidden territory.  _She_ was forbidden.  She was a friend, nothing more, and as far as she still knew she wasn’t single. 

            No matter how much she tried to push the thoughts away and think about something else, it always circled back to her.   Even despite her best efforts to think about _anyone_ else, it ended up coming right back to her, because nothing else compared to the mental image of her handcuffing her to a cheap motel bed.

            With a defeated sigh, she rolled onto her stomach, getting herself adjusted.  As a compromise of sorts, she figured she could make it quick, even if that hadn’t been her original plan.  No matter what, she knew she was going to feel guilty, so she might as well at least enjoy herself for a little while, thinking about all the things she would be more than willing to let Diantha do to her. 

            She desperately wanted Diantha to handcuff her to a bedframe so she could have her way with her.  She wanted to give every last bit of control over to her, because in the haze of her own ecstasy there was nobody more she trusted with that control. 

            Diantha was an excellent actress and an excellent battler.  It stood to reason she would also be an expert in the bedroom.  She may be petite, but Cynthia had a feeling she could be an absolute force of nature when she wanted to be. 

            She almost couldn't wait for the scenes where Elizabeth was basically asking to be put in her place. _–Am I getting too rowdy for you, Kiss of Death?  Need to feel in control again?–_ While she knew her acting voice would rile her up just fine, she was helpless to the thoughts of what all of her lines might sound like in her natural voice. 

            _–Do I need to put you in your place now that you’re back in my domain?–_

            _–Maybe you do.–_

            The scene was to fade to black, but it was all too easy to imagine Scarlet having her absolute way with Elizabeth. 

            Somewhere in the midst of the thoughts of where that fade to black could go, Cynthia came hard with a loud, relieved, moan, feeling herself tighten around her own fingers.

            Blissed out, she rolled onto her back and slung her other arm over her eyes, waiting for her breathing to even out once more.  All while realizing that, when it came to Diantha, she was completely and unequivocally fucked…

 

 

            The early morning desert air held a distinct chill to it.  The sun had yet to rise over the distant horizon, and not a breath of air stirred.  It almost reminded Cynthia of a late spring morning back in Sinnoh. 

            Diantha stood with her, situated at the side of the black car Elizabeth drove.  It was cleaned and waxed, perfectly reflecting the desert scenery around them. 

            The scene they were filming for the day was set to be an easy one, just time consuming since it was a bunch of quick shots that would be put together in editing.  It was a quick scene that would emphasize the amount of time that had passed when Elizabeth and Scarlet would take trips to this lookout. 

            It was a subtle thing, but Diantha had noticed that Cynthia had been avoiding eye contact with her all morning.  She wasn’t outright ignoring her, but she couldn’t get her to look her in the eyes at all.  Nobody else seemed to be getting the same treatment. 

            Diantha wouldn’t push it yet, but she was curious as to what had gotten into her. 

            The thought that maybe she had pushed things too far the previous day during filming came to mind, but she wasn’t certain.  She hoped Cynthia would bring it up if there was something that was bothering her, especially if she had anything to do with it. 

            Thick clouds had moved into the desert, blocking the first few rays of the sun.  One of the crew members had a Castform named Stratus that was in charge of keeping rain showers at bay, as well as helping with general weather ambiance.  The pokémon and its trainer both figured the clouds would burn off soon enough. 

             While Cynthia and Diantha stood together, waiting for the crew to get things in order for the next quick shot, Cynthia’s gaze turned to the sky, then she turned towards Stratus.  As she did, the weather pokémon changed to its hail form. 

            Diantha followed her gaze, just in time for snowflakes to begin falling over the arid landscape.  The few flakes that landed on her face surprised her.  Sure, it was cold enough for snow, but it was the last thing she had expected from the desert. 

            All around them, everyone looked on in awe, murmurs asking when the last time snow in the desert had happened.  Somewhere, someone answered with, “roughly eighty years”. 

            “You didn’t have him use Hail, did you?” Tom asked, his voice rising over the crew. 

            Stratus and his trainer shook their heads.  “No!  This is coming from nature, not a move!”

            For the first time all morning, Cynthia looked to Diantha.  She was about to say something, but her voice was overshadowed by Tom’s. 

            “Hey, hey!”  he called, getting their attention.  “I know we don’t have anything planned, but can you two adlib something?  We can’t pass this up!”  Excitement was clear in his voice.

            Hot anxiety shot through Cynthia.  She wasn’t prepared for this at all. 

            However, there was nothing she could do to stop it as they dragged sound equipment to them, and a camera over a crewman’s shoulder. 

            Now she was petrified of screwing up the takes to the point of where none of the film would be usable, and it would be all her fault they lost out on a golden opportunity. 

            “Extra scene one, take one!” Lita called, not bothering to calibrate the digital clapperboard. 

            Feeling her bristling beside her, Diantha looked up to Cynthia, a smile on her painted lips.  The sight of her in the snow felt like the most natural thing in the world, making it easy for her to take the lead.  “Well, look at that, Elizabeth.  Snow in the desert.” 

            Despite it being her character voice, there was something so simple in the observation, Cynthia couldn't help but feel as though it was just a casual conversation between them.  There was no need to worry if she sounded like Elizabeth or not.  “That’s…something else, alright.”

            “Gorgeous, isn’t it?” Diantha followed, bringing her gaze to the distant landscape. 

            Despite knowing just how much of a cliché it was, Cynthia couldn't resist looking at Diantha as she responded, “Sure is.”

            The cameraman then panned quickly over the desert, and then received a cut. 

            “Again!  Something else!  Keep at it, ladies!”  Tom directed. 

            “Take Two!” Lita followed. 

            Cynthia started them off this time, eased by Diantha’s calm.  “Well, Kiss of Death?  Ever seen anything quite like snow in the desert?”

            She shook her head.  “Can’t say I have.”  She laughed lightly.  “I guess coming out here with you was a good thing after all,” she said, leaning into her without pulling away.  Personally, she was getting cold, and it was as good of an excuse as any to lean against her. 

            Carefully considering her actions, Cynthia put an arm around her, keeping her close.  Despite the cool temperature that reminded her of home, she felt hot under the jacket she wore. 

            After about five more takes similar in nature, the snow stopped falling, Stratus returning to his usual cloud form, and Tom called for a break. 

            “Excellent work you two!” He praised.  “Let’s give it about thirty minutes for a lighting change, and then we’ll get back at it.”

            Shivering a bit over-dramatically, Diantha turned herself to face Cynthia.  “Shall we?” They were sharing a trailer for the day –though it was technically an RV, but still being called a trailer much to Diantha’s dissatisfaction. 

            Cynthia nodded, going right back to avoiding eye contact.  “Let’s get out of the cold,” she said.  Truth be told, though, she was still hot, but that wasn’t the forefront of her concerns. 

            By that point, she was sure Diantha had caught on to her inability to make eye contact.  She had hoped the guilt from what she had done the previous night would have subsided by then.  The second she saw her that morning, her thoughts shot right back to every little fantasy, and she realized that the guilt had never really left her. 

            The RV’s temperature was far warmer than it was outside, leaving Cynthia to immediately discard her jacket on the back of the sofa.  Looking up to Diantha, she sat at the dinette with her arms crossed and a pensive expression.

            “Dear Cynthia–” _that_ of all things was not helping “–I can tell something is bothering you.  Is everything alright?”  
            She would sooner have somebody come punch her straight in the mouth than admit to what her problem was.  There was something about the thought of saying, _“Yeah, the thought of you on top of me kept me up pretty much all night, and now I can’t tell if I'm dreading the upcoming bar scene or not.  Because then I actually get to_ touch _you, and how much worse will that make things?”_ that seemed decidedly inappropriate for a number of reasons. 

            “I just didn’t get enough sleep,” she half-lied. 

            Diantha hummed, crossing her legs.  “That doesn’t explain why you won’t look me in the eye.” She figured it was bet to be blunt, that way she gave Cynthia as little room to deflect as possible. 

            Feeling herself in a bit of a corner, she swallowed her pride and looked directly into her blue eyes.  She reminded herself that she was an actress now, and had a skill at her disposal.  “I promise you, I’m fine.  With how little sleep I got, I’m just worried about saying something stupid.”  Another half-truth at best. 

            Her red lips rose into a smile, momentarily distracted from the conversation at hand.  “While I wouldn’t say you’ve said anything stupid, that first take _was_ particularly cheesy,” she joked. 

            Cynthia laughed half-heartedly.  “Look, in that crash course I had on acting, we only spent maybe a few days on improvisation.  I’m not exactly trained in that, okay?”

            She was just enjoying teasing her.  “I didn’t realize you had such a soft side.”

            She leaned back into the sofa.  “I can be a hopeless romantic when I want to be,” she said. 

            Silence fell over them for a moment, giving Diantha time to think about her approach.  She wasn’t satisfied with Cynthia’s answer, but didn’t want to push too hard and end up upsetting her. 

            Threading her fingers together, she figured it was best to continue being straightforward.  It was going to be an awkward conversation at best, but they might as well get it over with.  “Cynthia, I worry I might have been inappropriate with you yesterday, and that is what’s bothering you.” 

            Heat crawled up the back of her neck.  “What?  Oh, that? No, you didn’t bother me at all yesterday.”  At least, she wasn’t bothered in the way she was implying.  She bothered her in a much different way.

            “This isn’t going to be a fun conversation, so I’m just going to say it: I'm worried I was grinding on you too much.”  If it wasn’t for her makeup, the color on her cheeks might have been more noticeable. 

            Cynthia, on the other hand, her makeup was much thinner, making her blush noticeable.  If the conversation wasn’t such a serious one, Diantha might have been tempted to explore that a little further. 

            “I mean, they told us not everything we do has to be completely in line with the script.  Emotions and whatnot are more up to our personal interpretation.”  She worried she was being too textbook about this, but in her nervousness, she didn’t know how to be any other way.  “I just took it as– considering Scarlet isn’t actually abandoning Elizabeth, you interpreted it all as…I don’t know.  Basically, some kind of foreplay thing they would be into.  Seemed in character to me.”  None of it was a lie that time, but it certainly didn’t help the color on her cheeks.

            Diantha laughed lightly, resting an arm on the table.  “While I'm glad we’re on the same page, I do want you to know that if there ever is a time that I do anything to make you uncomfortable, you can tell me.  I don’t want to be doing to you what Alexander has been doing to me.”

            The more serious turn the conversation had taken helped ease the embarrassment.  Or, at the very least, helped moved it to the back burner.  “The same goes for you, Diantha.  Even if it’s during the bar scene or the fade to black, just let me know.”  The sudden remembrance of the scenes they had yet to film twisted her stomach into knots. 

            If she had been sexually frustrated from yesterday, when they hadn’t even properly kissed, how much more of a mess would she be then? 

            It was a bridge she would have to burn when she got to it. 

            “This is only tangentially related,” Diantha began, figuring it would be best to get them off the subject.  “But have you found it odd that Tom seems so sure that Scarlet not abandoning Elizabeth is the biggest…twist, or however you want to phrase that?  Because I still think the reveal that Elizabeth was in the mafia is the biggest reveal.”

            She leaned back a bit, laughing.  “A mafia enforcer, at that.”  All the scenes dealing with that would be filmed in the upcoming weeks.  The other guest star who was to play the mafia boss had a tight schedule, and so they could only film when she was available.  As such, she hadn’t been present during script meetings.  “When am I supposed to meet my ‘cousin’, anyways?”

            Her face lit up.  “Coral Santos!  Within the next few weeks, if I remember correctly.  I can’t wait for you to meet her.  She’s absolutely stunning.” 

            “Oh, so even celebrities can have celebrity crushes?” she asked, amused. 

            She rolled her eyes in a playful manner.  “She _has_ a wife, so it’s not like I would even stand a chance– but yes.  She’s a model and actress, and we’ve crossed paths plenty of times.  This will be the first thing we’ve been in together, though…”

            She gushed over her celebrity crush some more, all to Cynthia’s amusement.  There was a split second in there she thought to be jealous, but she couldn't bring herself to even experience the emotion.  Not when it came across to her so clearly as a celebrity crush, and nothing more. 

            She was looking forward to meeting her before, but now she just wanted to see how Diantha would handle herself around her.

            Before either of them knew it, they were being called for another take. 

            Once done for the night, Cynthia and Diantha returned to the RV to change out of their clothes.  Cynthia’s outfit was the easiest, only needing to hang up her coat back on its rack. 

            In the middle of getting changed in the back room, Diantha’s phone began to ring from her purse.  Not bothering to put her undershirt on, she walked over to the vanity to grab her purse.  The sight of Mel’s name was enough to make her roll her eyes.   

            Still unwilling to give him an answer, she ignored the call and shoved her phone back into her purse.  He knew her schedule, and he was still in the region.  If he really wanted to amend things, he would have to do so in person. 

            Until then, she was going to do something she was positive would make her happy.  She had been mulling over asking Cynthia to go out for drinks for a while now, but his stubbornness was enough to push her over the edge. 

            Returning to her discarded undershirt, she threw that on along with a top, then grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair.  

            Heading into the main area of the RV, she was relieved to see that Cynthia had waited on her.   

            “My dear Cynthia, I was wondering,” she began, waiting for her full attention. 

            “What’s up?” she asked, casually throwing an arm over the back of the sofa.

            “I know it’s a little last minute, but I was wondering if you would like to go out together tonight?  Since it’s the end of the week.”

            She glanced away briefly, but quickly returned her attention to her.  “I was thinking about asking you the same thing, actually, so yeah!  That’d be great.  Just the two of us?”

            Unsure if she was asking that as a way of wanting to invite others, she shrugged.  “If there’s anyone else you would like to invite, that’s fine.”  She didn’t want to force her to be around her exclusively. 

            Cynthia brought her arm back around, resting her hands in her lap.  “Oh, sorry– I actually meant that more as a ‘can it be just the two of us’?  I feel like it’s been a while since just you and I got to go out together.” There definitely wasn’t an ulterior motive there.  Certainly not.  She just simply wanted to be around her friend, just the two of them, and it certainly had nothing to do with anything.  [Because it had to do with _everything_ and just maybe she was getting a touch desperate.]

            “I would like that very much, dear Cynthia.”

            And just maybe she was on the same page. 

 

 

            Leaving the decision up to Diantha, she ended up picking a nicer bar on the south side of Castelia.  It wasn’t as high up as the restaurant they had been to the first time they got together, but it still offered a lovely view of the city around them, and out into the harbor.  Despite it being a Friday night, there wasn’t much of a crowd, something both women were thankful for. 

            They sat at the end of the bar away from the few others who sat there, talking over how the day had gone, and bonding over their mutual love for drinks that were so sweet the alcohol was hardly noticeable. 

            After about half a drink, however, Diantha began to feel its effects.  It was a clear reminder that she hadn’t eaten properly all day, and needed to remedy that before it was too apparent to anyone else.

            However, that plan quickly went to hell as Cynthia made an offhanded comment that was far funnier than she intended it to be, bringing Diantha to a fit of giggles. 

            Cynthia smiled, looking between her and her drink.  “Not even a full drink, huh?” she asked.  Though, in all fairness, her drink was pretty strong in comparison to what she had been expecting, so likely hers was, too. 

            Diantha rolled her eyes, but couldn’t keep herself from giggling.  “I might have realized I haven’t had much to eat since breakfast.”  So much for not wanting anyone to notice.  She hoped Cynthia wouldn’t think too much into it. 

            Glancing quickly to the digital clock on the wall, it sent a bit of panic through Cynthia.  She would have at least suggested somewhere with proper food.  Though, as she grabbed the menu from a few seats down, she realized this was probably fine. 

            “Get something to eat.  I’ll buy,” she said, passing it over to Diantha. 

            She pouted.  “I don’t like bar food, though.” Just the mere thought of greasy food made her stomach turn.  She would stick to her drink if that’s all there was.

            Cynthia’s hand came in her line of sight, and it took a lot of restraint to not let herself get distracted by something as simple as her long fingers.  “Diantha, there’s literally an entire vegan section.  This isn’t typical bar food, and much less typical _Unovan_ bar food,” she pointed out. 

            “I hadn’t noticed that,” she said, because she was still distracted by her fingers.  Wardrobe kept her nails manicured and short, and then she was begging herself to stop the thoughts for at _least_ a few seconds so she could function.  

            “Can I ask why you picked this place?” It obviously wasn’t for the menu. 

            She shrugged, forcing herself to keep her attention on the menu.  “I know the owner and have been meaning to stop by,” she answered.  At the very least, she found herself at least interested in a few of the meals.  A rarity.

            Cynthia laughed lightly, taking a long sip of her drink.  Throwing an arm over the back of her chair, she turned to face Diantha better.  She was quickly realizing it was probably unfair to make fun of Diantha for being a lightweight, because she wasn’t fairing much better. 

            Alcohol really made it hard to drown out all the thoughts she had been having as of late.

            “So, do you know just about every bar and restaurant owner in Castelia, or…?” she asked. 

            Diantha looked at her, a glimmer of something playful in her eyes.  “Just the bars where the owners are gay.”

            It got a laugh from Cynthia.  “I mean, I’m not sure if it was the rainbow Sunflora mascot, our bartender, or just the general vibe of this place, but I had a feeling it was owned by someone gay.” 

            “She’s not here tonight, but Vanessa is an absolute dear.  Not my type, but I enjoy her company,” she explained, now deciding between two different meals. 

            Normally, Cynthia might have refrained from asking, but inhibitions be damned.  She wanted to know.  “What _is_ your type?” Part of her expected her to just end up describing Mel, but the other part of her was hoping for _something_.

            Heat crept up her back, and instead of weighing meal options, she was weighing being honest or not.  “Why do you want to know that?” she asked carefully.  Answering a question with a question was the only way she was going to avoid giving away too much.

            “Just curious.  I still don’t have you completely figured out, but I would like to.”  Thankfully, Diantha didn’t notice the look-over she gave her.  She was enjoying the view a little too much.

            She watched as Diantha turned in her chair to face her, their knees almost touching.  Maybe she was just looking for some semblance of confirmation that she would stand a chance if she were single. 

            Searching her face, she couldn't tell if she was going to answer her.  All she was sure of was that she was at least weighing her options. 

            Which she still was. 

            Between the alcohol in her system, and the look in Cynthia’s eyes that gave her the flicker of hope that maybe she wanted her too, there was little left to keep her from being honest.  “Typically, I have a very strong affinity for–” _tall blonde women_ _._

            The sound of her phone buzzing on the countertop interrupted her.  At the sight of Mel’s name, the warmth in her stomach turned bitter.  “Ugh, stars above, what does he want?” she grumbled, making the decision to ignore the call.  She still refused to accept anything other than an in-person apology, and she wasn’t about to let him ruin her drunk evening. 

            “Mad at him?” Cynthia guessed, leaning an arm on the countertop. 

            She nodded, shoving her phone into her clutch purse.  “He’s been in the region the whole week, and yet couldn’t even make time to come see me; and after Alexander grabbed me all Mel had to say was ‘it happens’, which–“ She just shook her head.  It wasn’t a road she was looking to go down. 

            She would blame asking the question on alcohol.  “Can I ask what you see in him?  Because, for me, I would have left his ass for that.”  For a second, she worried it was too harsh, or potentially blaming Diantha, but she merely shrugged in response not seeming to take offense. 

            “I sometimes wonder, dear Cynthia…” She trailed off, listening in to the bar around them.  Somewhere in listening to the steady noise of conversation, she convinced herself to at least tell Cynthia.  “Actually, I…” She shrugged.  “I told him that I didn’t think we should be together any longer, and that I needed time to think if I wanted to stay with someone who can’t even at least act like he cares. If he wants to apologize to me, it has to be in person.  I haven’t seen him in months, and it’s the _least_ he can do.”

            Cynthia wanted to reach over and grab her hand, but refrained from doing so.  She was already crossing lines she thought she shouldn’t.  “You deserve someone who doesn’t have to act like they care, Diantha.  You deserve someone who genuinely does care.”

            Sincerely, she hoped that it wasn’t coming across as though she was implying she was that person.  Even if they parted ways after this as friends and nothing else, she firmly believed Diantha deserved better.  Even if they could never be together in any way, she wanted the best for her. 

            Silence sat heavy between them, neither sure of where to go from there. 

            Before Cynthia could attempt to apologize for the change in mood, the bartender wandered over to their side, asking if they needed anything. 

            She was a young woman, maybe only a year or two younger than them, with a stocky build that told Cynthia she could probably bench her without much trouble.  While butch wasn’t typically her preference, she wouldn’t deny that she was at very pleasant to look at. 

            “Oh, yes, actually,” Diantha said, returning to her menu. 

            With a quick glance at the menu, Cynthia ordered something after her, only half sure of what she picked. 

            “Would it be alright if we moved to the terrace for a while?  I’m getting a little too warm,” Diantha asked, hoping Cynthia wouldn't mind moving.  Partially, she just hoped the change of scenery would get the atmosphere between them back to what it had been. 

            “Yeah, go for it!  I’ll flag you down when your foods ready,” she said. 

            Hopping out of her seat, Diantha grabbed her drink, waiting on Cynthia expectantly. 

            She grabbed hers, allowing Diantha to take the lead.  Being too warm was just a staple of being in Unova at that point, so she wasn’t about to complain. 

            Out on the terrace, fairy lights were strung up to create a small canopy, and there was a constant breeze.  Around them, the city was loud and alive, charging the air. 

            “What time is it?” Cynthia asked, thinking it was earlier than it was, even though she had checked the time only a few minutes prior. 

            Diantha gave her the time as they approached the railing, however, the number she said was definitely over twelve. 

            She caught herself laughing.  “I’m sorry, what time is it?”

            She failed to see what was so amusing.  “Twenty-one–“ but as she said it she realized what Cynthia was getting at.  “Oh, right.” She placed her drink on the railing’s flat top, mindful of the extra barrier that would keep her from accidentally pushing it over the ledge.  “Twenty-four hour clock, darling,” she reminded. 

            Cynthia laughed again.  “Oh, right.  Kalos uses that nonsense,” she joked, nudging her slightly.  Diantha was warm at her side despite the cool night air. 

            “It makes perfect sense!  It bypasses the nonsense of AM and PM!” she defended.  Granted, time telling wasn’t something that ever tripped her up.  She just liked having something to tease Cynthia about. 

            “Oh, please,” Cynthia responded, forcing herself to look away from Diantha. 

            Below them the cars moved slowly.  Despite it being past nine _PM_ , there was still traffic going in and out of the city.  It was one of the things that made her thankful for being able to fly everywhere with Braviary.

            “What does AM even stand for?” Diantha continued. 

            Cynthia took a sip of her drink.  “Am Morning,” she stupidly responded, getting a snort of a laugh out of Diantha that was entirely too adorable for her to handle while this tipsy. 

            “PM?” she asked, too amused to point out how stupid her answer had been.

            “Past Morning,” she said with enough conviction that it might as well have been a fact. 

            Diantha rolled her eyes.  “No, it doesn’t!” At least she hoped not.  She didn’t know what it actually stood for, but surly to the gods above it didn’t stand for something so stupid. 

            Shifting her weight to one foot, she leaned into Diantha.  “Probably not, but okay, you know what? You know what really doesn’t make sense?” she asked. 

            It took every ounce of restraint Diantha had to keep down the sudden desire to lean in and kiss her shoulder. 

            Alcohol.

            “Tell me, darling,” she said. 

            Even though she said it to nearly everyone, the frequent use of “darling” had long threatened to be Cynthia’s undoing.  It combined with being looked in the eyes was turning into something of a weakness.  “French numbers,” she answered. 

            Not what she was expecting, Diantha leaned back, covering her mouth to laugh.  At the very least, she did understand where Cynthia was coming from. 

            “I may know next to nothing in French, but I _do_ know that counting in French is absolute nonsense!” Cynthia continued. 

            “It’s not that bad!” she defended before taking another sip of her drink.  She was leaning in too close again, and soon enough all the distractions in the world might not be enough to keep her from resisting the desire to kiss her. 

            Straight-faced, she said, “Four twenties, five tens.”

            “That’s not even a number!”  Four twenties, quatre-vingts, _was_ technically eighty, but five tens wasn’t anything. 

            Cynthia placed her drink aside, leaning back into the railing.  “But isn’t it, though?” she asked. 

            In the few moments that Diantha silently calculated her next move, Cynthia found herself quickly becoming overwhelmed.  More than anything, she wished she could confidently say that Diantha was single.  She knew somewhere in the back of her mind that, “Needing time to think” wasn’t a definitive answer. 

            She wished she would just allow herself to see it as a grey enough area so she could just get one reckless and selfish kiss out of the way, and to never have to face the feeling again. 

            Well, at least not until they had to kiss on set. 

            Without prompting, Diantha began to speak in French.  Just about every word was lost on Cynthia, and yet, somehow, she found herself now at a loss for words.  She wanted to continue teasing her, but Diantha had completely stolen her thunder. 

            While she figured not likely, Diantha could have been calling her all kinds of obscenities for insulting the French counting system, and she would have still found herself completely and utterly enamored. 

            Her face and neck were growing warm, quickly treading into hot.  None of it was from the alcohol. 

            In the middle of speaking, Diantha realized the effect she was having.  She would continue speaking French the entire night if it would keep Cynthia looking at her like that. 

            A grin worked its way onto her face.  “Did I just fluster you?” she asked, confident in the answer.  She just wanted to hear her say it. 

            Cynthia almost had to remind herself to breathe.  Reluctantly, she answered, “…Maybe.”

            Diantha covered her grin, but it didn’t help Cynthia any.  Still, she was thrilled to just have that information, tucking that away somewhere in the back of her mind for later use. 

            Cynthia suddenly found the need to defend herself.  “You haven’t spoken French to me directly before, and it’s a charming language, and–“ Really, all she was doing was digging her grave even deeper.  “I don’t know!  Don’t read too much into it!”  Which was just her way of silently pleading for her to think more into it, and keep talking in French. 

            Maybe, if she was lucky, she would get to hear what “dear Cynthia” sounded like. 

            Diantha removed her hand from her mouth, placing it on Cynthia’s arm.  Her skin was warm to the touch.  “Darling, I was just scolding you about numbers.  If something that simple can fluster you, should I read you my grocery list?” she asked, curious to know just how simple she could make things and still fluster her. 

            With her free hand, she placed it over Diantha’s.  While she wanted to intertwine their fingers together, it was safer this way.  It could still be interpreted as platonic this way, and she could wait until later to give herself hell for it.  “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

            “Am I now?” she asked with a heavy blink.

            That combined with the fairy lights reflecting in her eyes was enough to make Cynthia reconsider exactly where she stood on the whole matter. 

            Unfortunately for the part of her that was growing increasingly desperate, there was enough of a voice in the back of her mind telling her not to give in.  She would need another drink before that could be properly drowned out, and knowing that, she would be mindful if ordering another. 

            “Just don’t try to make fun of me.  One of my gym leaders speaks French, so I at least know what _that_ sounds like.”  Really, any of what she did know of French came from Fantina teasing her. 

            Though, her teasing was in a far tamer vein. 

            They talked a while longer, enjoying the night air and all it was worth.  They took playful jabs at one another, countering each other’s quick remarks like passing notes in secrecy.  Diantha would slip in a little French here and there, if only because she enjoyed the way Cynthia’s hand would squeeze her quickly disappearing drink as if she was trying to hold in _something_. 

            By the time both their drinks were empty, neither were sure how much time had truly passed, too absorbed in one another’s company. 

            “Hey, champions!”

            Taking the hand back she had on Cynthia’s arm, they both turned towards the doorway.  The bartender was waving them down. 

            “I guess I’ve cooled down enough, anyways,” Diantha said, grabbing her empty glass. 

            Cynthia said nothing, only grabbing her glass as well, and following Diantha back inside.  Thankfully, their original seats hadn’t been taken. 

            Swiping their empty glasses from them, the bartender then wiped down their side of the bar, walking off before returning to them with their meals.  “Need another drink?” she asked. 

            Diantha looked at her meal before making her decision.  “Yes, but I think I would like something different.  I don’t remember what it was called, but I remember it tasting like orange and vanilla.”

            She nodded.  “Got’cha.”  She then looked to Cynthia.  “What about you, Sinnoh?”

            “Same as before, but also some water, please.”

            “Coming right up,” she said, turning away from them to grab new glasses.  After a little deliberating over a few different multicolored bottles, she began to work on her drink, ending with a hearty splash of orange juice. 

            Cynthia looked on as the bright orange drink was placed in front of Diantha.  “Orange and vanilla, huh?” 

            After a cursory sip that brought a warm smile to her face, she handed it to Cynthia.  “Just try it,” she said. 

            One sip and she immediately regretted the drink that was then placed in front of her.  It tasted like an orange creamsicle, and while not her favorite ice cream, it was an absolutely delightful drink. 

            Begrudgingly, she handed it back to her.  “I don’t want to think about how much of that I could drink.” 

            Halfway through their meals, Diantha officially hit the point of not caring.  Her phone vibrated from within her purse, but she still wasn’t going to answer Mel.  She was mad, and she wasn’t about to answer him while drinking.  She would just end up saying things she would regret later. 

            Though, that wasn’t exactly going to stop her from saying things she might regret all together.  “Can I make a drunk confession, dear Cynthia?”

            She laughed a bit.  “Go for it.”  She turned to better face her, dying to know where this was going to go.

            She kept her focus on her half full drink.  It was getting watery at the top.  “At the last international meeting, after your introductory speech, I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk.”

            It wasn’t anywhere in the ballpark of what she was expecting.  She laughed again.  “How do I talk?” She didn’t think she had much of an accent.  At least not in comparison to some Sinnoan accents. 

            She shrugged, taking a quick glance at her.  “You’re very well-spoken, and I don’t know if you’re aware but you speak and carry yourself with such a regal air when you’re confident an– anyways.” 

            She was at least a little flattered. 

            “I was more just…frustrated is all.  Your welcoming speech was lovely, and after what…” she was embarrassed that she struggled to think of the correct number.  Definitely no more drinks after that one.  “Four meetings at that point? I still hadn’t gotten the courage to say more than hello to you?”

            Cynthia desperately tried to follow the logic, even with it being drunk logic, she couldn't figure it out.  Leaning on one arm, she gave her a generous look-over.  “I’m not understanding.”

            “Neither do I, honestly.  I think it all comes down to that from the second I very first saw you, I thought you were absolutely gorgeous, and it burned me.”  Burned her in a few ways. 

            Warmth returned to her in an instant.  The admission alone was getting her hopes up again, and it was getting easier to drown out the part of her that was saying this was a bad idea. 

            Though, admitting she found her appealing didn’t necessarily mean she wanted her in any sense.  Like how she found their bartender appealing.  Nice to look at, but not what she desired in the moment. 

            “I’m pretty enough to make you mad?” she asked, trying to keep the conversation going.  She didn’t need to make it too apparent that she was overthinking everything. 

            She leaned back in her chair, taking her hands off her drink.  Pretty didn’t even begin to cover what she thought of the woman sitting next to her.  Stunning, ethereal, _“a face so gorgeous I can’t stop thinking about it when I’m drunk, or as of late, all together,”_ were all descriptors that came to mind.   

            “You should ask Siebold sometime for the entire discography of my drunken complaining.  He had to suffer it…more than once.”  She was definitely going to regret admitting all of that later, but it was too late to take any of it back. 

            It at least got a genuine laugh from her.  “A very patient man.”  Outside of Diantha at that point, he was probably the only person in the Kalos League she really ever had a conversation with.  From what she remembered, he was a very passionate man when it came to art, and he was a joy to battle.  Diantha talked about him frequently enough for her to assume they were very close.

            For a while, they continued to eat in silence, Cynthia trying desperately not to think too much about the gorgeous comment, and what she wanted it to mean. 

            Granted, maybe it didn’t matter what she wanted it to mean.  It could mean exactly what she wanted it to.  It could mean that Diantha was wanting her as bad as she drunkenly wanted her, but with her still tentatively in a relationship, she wouldn’t do anything.  She wasn’t a side girl, and she knew she deserved someone’s undivided attention.

            Alcohol was making it a difficult battle, though. 

            “We’re filming in Nimbasa on Monday, right?” she asked, breaking herself from her thoughts. 

            Diantha nodded, wiping her mouth on her napkin.  “Correct.”

            Which meant they were filming the bar scene, where Elizabeth was going to get very handsy with Scarlet around of a lot of people.  “Can I ask how awkward this is going to be?”  She quickly amended with, “Since it’s in front of cameras and all that.” 

            She forced a laugh, taking a drink of her water.  “Terribly, I'm afraid, and to be honest with you: I can’t say I’ve ever done a scene like this with another woman.”  She had kissed a few other women in her acting career, but none of the scripts had ever called for getting physical with one another in any way, and certainly no fade to black scenes, either. 

            “New in ways for both of us,” Cynthia grumbled.  The frustration was of a different sort, though.  All she could think about was the part of her that was excited to actually be able to get her hands on her.  It was all she had wanted since the day prior filming the handcuff scene.  Her wrist still ached from that. 

            Realistically, though, she knew she would be a nervous wreck.  Having to get handsy around a bunch of extras and cameras all while acting like they weren’t there was going to be an absolute nightmare. 

            “Usually,” Diantha carried on, “I get asked something like, ‘is filming those scenes as hot as it looks’?” She laughed a little bit.  “I hate to tell people that it’s actually terribly awkward.  I always end up getting yelled at for not appearing as into it as I should be, and lots of general yelling for hand placements.” She doubted she would have much trouble with it, however. 

             If anything, she ran the risk of seeming _too_ into it, which might be breaking character. 

            Meals finished and neither of them wanting any other drinks, Cynthia paid their tab and they headed out for the night. 

            “Can I fly you back to your apartment?” she asked.

            “I would love that, dear Cynthia.”  Not just for the kindness in the gesture, but for the simple fact that it meant Cynthia’s arm was going to be around her.

 

           

            They made a smooth landing outside Diantha’s apartment building.  As before, Diantha thanked Braviary with a ruffle of her face feathers; a gesture the bird was quickly getting used to. 

            Cynthia told herself to not offer, to leave things as they were, but her mouth betrayed her.  “Let me walk you in at least.” 

            She knew she shouldn't have offered, because as Diantha said yes and began to lead the way, she recalled Braviary and knew _exactly_ where this was headed.  She had also started to hit the point of not caring.  Implications be damned.  That was a problem for Sober Cynthia in the morning. 

            The lobby of the old art deco building had been modernized at some point.  White marble floors, and most of the furniture was black and minimalistic.  Opposite the side of the wall with the elevators sat a large, old grand piano that caught Cynthia’s attention. 

            Following her gaze, Diantha then looked back at her.  She vaguely remembered something about an event that had been held recently where they had someone come play for the residents, so she was positive it was at least in tune.  “I’m sure you’ve never been asked this, but are you able to play the piano, my dear?”

             She almost laughed.  She had been asked that plenty of times in her life, along with if she was able to play basketball –she couldn’t even if her life depended on it.  Piano, however, she could. 

            “I can.  It’s been a while, but yeah.”  She took a step towards it.  “Think I’d get in trouble?” she asked with a grin. 

            She quickly glanced to the desk where the attendants would usually be.  They were alone in the lobby.  “I doubt it.”

            Walking over with her to the piano, they sat together on the bench.  To Cynthia’s surprise, there was a folder with some sheet music haphazardly placed inside. 

            “I’m going to warn you now, though, like I said, it’s been a while since I played, so no clue how good I still am.”  It had been well over six months since she last touched any piano keys, and the last time she had she was pretty sure it was just an electronic keyboard. 

            Looking below the piano, she gave a cursory tap to its pedals.  They hardly made a sound, which was a relief to her.  One of the last real pianos she had played on, its pedals made a sound every time she used them. 

            Returning her attention to the folder of music, she skimmed through it.  Most were easy pieces, or would be better when accompanied by a cello or other string instrument. 

            One sheet in particular caught both their attention. 

            “Please tell me you can play that one,” Diantha said. 

            “If it has all the pages, I can,” she answered.  She was used to the piece being six pages in length, but this one had been condensed into three.  While the music was all tiny and barely readable, it at least made it so all the music could fit on the piano rack.  “You’re in luck.”

            She clasped her hands together in excitement.  “I can’t say I’m familiar with most classical music names, but Clair De Lune is my absolute favorite.”

            “I’m gonna warm up real quick,” she said running through what she could remember of a few scales.  “My old instructor would always get onto me for how I liked playing Clair De Lune.  I always thought he rushed through it, and I liked to take my time with the piece.  I played it way too slow for his liking.” 

            A few missed notes here and there, but it all came back to her quickly. 

            Being a touch drunk helped, too, because it stopped her from being too critical of herself long enough to get properly warmed up. 

            Even just watching her warmup, Diantha found herself already completely entranced by the way her hands moved along the keys.  She worked the piano so well, in a flicker of a thought, she wondered what else her hands would be good at. 

             Thoroughly warmed up, Cynthia paused, looking over to Diantha.  “Apologies in advance if I also upset you with how slow I tend to play this.”

            “I doubt you could do such a thing.”

            With a deep, steadying breath, she started playing. 

            If she hadn’t been so entranced with her hands, Diantha would have been tempted to close her eyes and savor the piece.  Low and slow, she started to understand why she might have gotten in trouble for taking the piece so slow, but hearing it live, she couldn't imagine it being played any other way. 

            Watching Cynthia herself was also a bit of a marvel.  She moved with the music, and had a smile on her face that Diantha found herself lost in. 

            In some of the quieter moments, Cynthia allowed herself to steal a glance at Diantha; something she would surly regret later, because she was looking at her in a way maybe nobody ever had.  Especially in regard to her playing.  She had been told plenty of times that she had “sounded good”, “she played nicely”, or other basic pleasantries. 

            The way Diantha looked at her had her feeling like she was the best pianist on the planet –which was definitely far from the truth with how many times she had messed up by the end of it piece. 

            For a moment, Diantha almost had to remind herself to breathe.  By the time she voluntarily did so, the final note had completely faded away into the high ceiling. 

            Leaning over, she rested her head on Cynthia’s shoulder, content to be nowhere else than right there with her in that moment. 

            Cynthia brought her hands down from the keys, placing them in her lap, figuring if she gave into the desire to put a hand on her, the night would just continue down the path she had initially assumed it would.    

            “I’m going to leave Mel,” Diantha said after a long silence. 

            It was so unexpected, Cynthia laughed, allowing herself to place a hand on Diantha’s leg, just above her knee.  “My playing that bad you have to reevaluate your whole life?” She was aware she had missed a few notes, and a few of the runs were sloppy at best, but she was still inebriated so she cut herself some slack.

            Diantha shook her head, wrapping her arm through Cynthia’s.  “No, my dear Cynthia, I would argue the opposite.  Sitting next to you while you played… _that’s_ how I want to feel with a person.”

            Pulling away just enough to make them look at one another, Cynthia looked her over.  She was getting more drunk admissions than she ever thought she would, and she was in no frame of mind to worry about pushing her luck.  “How did that make you feel?” she asked. 

            She let her hand trail down her arm as she spoke.  “Grounded.  Like nothing else in the world mattered except us in that moment.  I wasn’t worried about filming, deadlines, what people might say or think, or– anything, really.  All that mattered was the calm you brought me, and how without meaning to you’ve made me feel like the most important person in the room.”

            Cynthia laughed low, moving once again so that she could take hold of Diantha’s hand.  No touching be damned.  “Admittedly, you kind of are the only other person in the room right now,” she joked. 

            She laughed in a breath, pulling on her hand.  “While that may be true,” she continued with feigned annoyance.  “What I’m getting at is that I can’t remember the last time Mel even made me feel something close to this, and why do I continue to stay with someone who has made me feel second best for so long?”  For so long she had been convincing herself that she needed a reason.  One solid reason to leave, when the truth of the matter had been right in front of her the whole time: simply not wanting to be together _was_ a reason. 

            “That’s a bit of a high bar.  As much as I would love to be able to play the piano every day to give someone–“ _you_ “–that kind of calm, I don’t know that that’s realistic, either.” But _damn_ if her drunk self wasn’t thinking about how much she would be willing to put in that kind of effort, though. 

            She responded with a one shoulder shrug.  “I don’t disagree, but it’s not as though I would expect that every day, or maybe even every week.  I realize acting in romance for so long has probably tainted how I view relationships, but being reminded of that feeling now and then would just be…nice.”

            The had been a time and day when Mel had gone to great lengths to win over her affection.  Once he had won her over, within a year he lessened his efforts to keep winning her over, and by year two of their relationship he had all but stopped. 

            Drunk hindsight was a hell of a thing. 

            Cynthia thought to tell her that she had then just lowered the bar too much.  There was a healthy median somewhere in there, but she was too drunk and tired to figure out precisely where that middle ground was. 

            “Can I keep playing for you?” she instead offered.

            “I would love few things more, dear Cynthia.”

            For another half hour or so, Cynthia continued playing the piano for her.  She went through pieces she still had memorized, then onto others where she knew smaller parts, and ending off on what was more or less just her riffing, enjoying spending time with Diantha more than anything.  The quality of her playing didn’t matter to her, so long as Diantha was happy with it. 

            Eventually, with a deep yawn, Diantha excused herself for the night, both of them aware it was probably for the best.  No matter how much they both wanted the night to not end, there were things that needed to be in order before either of them could risk indulging in one another’s company the way they wanted to.

            Though, as Diantha stood in her arms to give her a hug goodnight, her head rest on her chest to where she could hear her heartbeat.  She remembered teasing Cynthia earlier in the day for her cheesy line out in the desert, but in truth she wasn’t much better.  All she could drunkenly think about was that of all the pieces she heard that night, her heartbeat was secretly her favorite. 

             When she stepped out of the circle of her embrace, she felt herself hesitate.  She knew she would chastise herself for it the second she was out of her sight, but for now, she was going to give in just a little, one last time for the night.

             Reaching up to gently put a hand on her cheek, she pulled her down to kiss her cheek, still having to stand on her toes to do so. 

            Her breath hitched, and the resulting smile she felt against her skin was enough to make her feel lightheaded. 

            “Thank you for a wonderful night, my dear Cynthia.”

            _Her_ dear Cynthia.  That was new.  She had heard ‘my dear’ and ‘dear Cynthia’ plenty of times, but there was something about the combination that was making her feel borderline reckless.  “Anytime,” she said, not trusting herself to say any more than that. 

            One foot after the other, she forced herself to leave for the night.  They still had to see one another Monday morning, and she had a conversation she needed to mentally prepare for. 

            On her flight back to Undella, Cynthia thought over the specificities of what it was she wanted from her at that point.  It wasn’t a line of thought she would have even considered back when filming began.  Now, every answer from simply how much she wanted to have kissed her, to wondering if anything she had fantasized about the previous night was anywhere on the horizon, all thoughts left her feeling guilty. 

            Braviary’s wings kicked up sand as she came in for a landing out front of the beachside villa. 

            Sliding off the back of her pokémon, instead of stepping away from her, she leaned back on her arms against the bird. 

            Braviary craned her neck around, looking at her trainer. 

            Cynthia forced a laugh.  “I’m an idiot, huh?”

            She cooed softly in response, the sound reassuring her some. 

            With a firm pat to her back, she finally pushed off her.  “You going to roost out here tonight?”

            She nodded, quick to take off to assume her spot on the roof. 

            Inside, apart from the sound of the air-conditioning unit, things were quiet.  Quiet enough to hear her own thoughts. 

            Sleep.  She needed sleep. 

            She also needed someone to talk to, but with how late it was already, that would have to wait until the morning.  At least it gave her time to consider who she wanted to talk to. 

            Her sister was absolutely out of the question.  While _maybe_ she did need to be scolded in some form or fashion for her choices, she wanted to be consoled, and there was probably only one person who wouldn't ridicule her.  Someone who would be willing to just be a soundboard, and only offer advice if she asked for it. 

            Sending a text off to Steven asking him to call her sometime in the morning, she proceeded to get ready for bed.  All her remaining energy was spent on brushing her teeth and removing what was left of her makeup from the day.

            Pulling the straps of her bra through her sleeves, she pulled it out from under her shirt, discarding it somewhere across the room.  Another problem for Sober Cynthia. Crawling into bed, upon closing her eyes the world around her felt like it was slowly spinning.  It would be a while before she was finally able to fall asleep.

 

 

            Sometime in the morning after a quick breakfast accompanied by enough water to drown out her headache, Steven finally called. 

            After some pleasantries and an inquiry if she was hungover – _Only mildly,_ she had answered– he finally asked, _“So, what’s wrong?”_

            She laughed, feeling herself sink into the couch cushion below her.  “I'm a terrible actress, that’s what’s wrong,” she simply said. 

            He hummed on his end.  _“How so?”_

            She shrugged, running a hand through her hair, brushing it all away from her face.  “I just…Steven, I can’t separate the emotions, at least…not when it comes to my character’s romantic feelings.”

            _“Ah, I see.”_   There was a slight chuckle.  _“I thought you couldn't stand Diantha for a while there?”_

            “Things change.”  She proceeded to give him as brief of a summary of what all had happened since the last time they spoke, catching him up to the previous night.  She left out a few details, if only to save herself some extra embarrassment.  “And so, I think I broke up her and Mel.  Am I a terrible person?”

            He laughed.  _“Cynthia, if I may be honest, I personally think you did her a service if you actually did have any part in her decision.”_

            She remained silent for a while, trying to process what he said.  None of it made her feel any less guilty. 

            _“Also, do remember that she’s an adult who can make her own decisions.  Even if you did have any weight in it, she is the one who has decided to leave him.  You didn’t tell her to leave him.”_

            That was at least a little easier to digest.  “Doubt the media would see it that way,” she said flippantly, to which he laughed. 

            _“The media is still convinced she’s secretly dating Siebold, so I mean, would they ever listen to reason?”_ he asked. 

            “This is true,” she said with a quick laugh. 

            _“Let me ask you this, Cynthia: Where do you want this to go from here?  Best case scenario?”_ he followed up. 

            She silently thought over her answer.  Deep down she knew the answer.  She couldn’t stop the thoughts even if she wanted to.  Even if she didn’t fully “voice” them in her mind, she knew what she intended to think. 

            However, it was equally hard to push down the thoughts of what could go wrong, and how they both could end up hurt from the situation. 

            “I’m having a hard time sticking to best case scenario.  All I can think of is what would go wrong.”

            He chuckled.  _“Understandable, but try.  For me.  This is a complete hypothetical, Cynthia.  None of it has to come true.  I just think you need to voice what you want to have happen.”_

            “What if it’s just a physical attraction?” she asked, if only to avoid the real question at hand. 

            _“Then–“_ She could imagine him shrugging at her.  _“–It’s just a physical thing, Cynthia.  There’s nothing wrong with that.  She’s an attractive woman, and you’re basically being paid to kiss her right now.  With how long it’s been since you were last with anyone, I mean, it’s not like I don’t understand.”_

            “Rude,” she said under her breath.  He wasn’t wrong, though.  “It’s only been like…four years.” Her voice trailed off, suddenly aware of how long it had been since she had been with anybody physically.  Sure, she had been on plenty of casual dates and shared a few chaste kisses now and then, but nothing beyond that.  It wasn’t something she normally desired so soon with a person. 

            _“My point still stands,”_ he said.  _“So, just answer my question.  Where do you want this to go, best case scenario?”_

            And so she told him everything, from thoughts she deemed selfish on her end, to simpler desires, to even some of the details from earlier she had left out.  At the end of the day, it was Steven she was talking to, and no matter what she said, he was still her best friend and wouldn’t judge her at face value. 

            It was a conversation best left between them. 

            By the end of it, while no closer to acting on any of her desires, it did at least feel nice to have voiced them…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo is now an appropriate time to admit that i've never actually written and posted smut/overtly sexual stuff, and that all of this is basically one big shot in the dark??? ahaha (//v//)
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways, happy pride month, y'all!! 
> 
> IDEALLY i would like to get another chapter done before the end of the month in honor of pride month, but idk how realistic that is. there are a TON of changes to the next chapter. so much so, it vs the original chapter i wrote during nanowrimo are basically two different stories.  
> i'll maybe talk more about those differences next chapter tho aha 
> 
> aT THE MOMENT other than being a little emotionally heavy, i don't think there's anything in the next chapter that warrants a content warning, but if that changes i'll be sure to add that in the beginning notes of next chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> also, with all that new lovely gen 8 info we just got, i gOTTA throw in a reference to Leon if it's the last thing i do in this fic lm a o


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Diantha goes to leave him, and he gives her even more of a reason.

            Early in the morning, Diantha’s phone began to ring.  The loud sound woke her with a start; she shot up into a seated position, nearly throwing her comforter off her person.  That combined with being tired and mildly hungover, she reached for her phone, answering it without any regard to the specific tone. 

            “Hello?” As she said it, she began to register that it was Mel’s ring tone. 

            _“You didn’t answer any of my calls last night!”_

            She fell back into her pillows, feeling a stomach ache coming on.  “Not even a ‘how are you’, huh?” she asked, making sure he was well aware of how exasperated she was with him. 

            He ignored her. _“What were you doing?  What have you_ been _doing?”_

            For a second, she thought to lie, saying she had simply been sleeping.  Maybe it would have been believable enough.  Had she not been with Cynthia, it was likely all her plans for the evening would have come to. 

            Instead, she decided to tell him the truth.  “I was with Cynthia.  We went to get drinks after filming.” 

            He sighed.  _“You know, I really don’t like how much time you’ve been spending with her.  I feel like ever since you started this project, you’ve just been around her too much.”_

She scoffed, adjusting herself into a more comfortable position. “She’s my costar.  It’s kind of imperative that we spend time together.”  Maybe not as much as they did outside the studio.  She certainly never spent as much time with other costars; but that didn’t matter.  They were friends, and without many other friends in the region, it made sense to spend time with one another.

            _“Just makes me wonder what you’ve really been doing.”_

            The implication brought her into a seated position again.  It wasn’t the first time he had alluded to an accusation of cheating. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, trying to keep her tone even.  If she reacted too strongly, he would continue suspecting her. 

            _“I just don’t think it’s appropriate to spend so much time with your costar.  You should be together on set, not off it.”_

            She rolled her eyes hard enough to give herself a quick headache.  “What?  Am I not allowed to spend time with a friend?” she asked, throwing her comforter off her body.  She was getting mad, and it was making her hot. 

            There was silence, but she could imagine him shrugging.  _“You never mentioned her before, so I didn’t even realize you two were friends,”_ he defended. 

            She could maybe give him that. 

            “She’s the champion of Sinnoh.  I’m the champion of Kalos.”  She knew he was going to be upset by the simple reminder.  It always upset him, and yet, she couldn't even bring herself to care about his inadequacy issues anymore.  She was _tired_ of selling herself short to make him feel better.  “Now that we’ve finally had time to work with one another, it turns out our leagues are very similar.  Of course we became friends!”

            He made a disapproving noise on his end.  _“I just wish you wouldn't see her so much.  I wish even more you wouldn’t drink around her.  There’s just no guarantee what will happen if you drink too much around her, and even though we’re in the middle of a rough patch, it would just break my heart if anything were to happen.”_

            Whether he was implying that she couldn’t control herself, or that Cynthia was secretly some kind of monster waiting to take advantage of her while drunk, she didn’t care.  Both were making her equally furious.  How dare he try to imply something about a woman he knew nothing about?

            “Do you not trust me?” she asked. 

            _“Should I not?”_ he countered.

            She wanted to yell.  Yell and scream and tell him all about how awful he was, and about how much she wanted to leave him.

            Before she could, memories from last night with Cynthia returned to the forefront of her mind.  All the flirting, touching, and every desire to kiss her senseless came back in an instant. 

            _Fine_ , she decided.  A broken clock was right twice a day, and his paranoia happened to strike at just the right time. 

            With a heavy sigh, she asked, “Are you still filming in Mistralton?”

            _“Uh–“_ he seemed thrown off by the question.  _“Yeah? Things are wrapping up by Monday, but–“_

            “That’s all I needed to know.  I’ll have an answer for you soon.”  With that she hung up, and placed her phone on silent.

            She was going to leave him, but she was going to leave him in person.  While it would probably just be easier over the phone, she wanted to be able to look him in the eyes if he dared to beg her to stick around. 

            Maybe a part of her hoped he would. 

            Maybe a part of her still clung to some shred of hope that things would go back to how they used to be.  That he would resume being the man who went above and beyond to win her over.  That he would resume surprising her with little, but consistent, gestures like showing up unexpectedly just when she wanted to see him the most, or with daily reminders that he was thinking of her and couldn't wait to see her whenever they had planned next. 

            The realization, however, that things could never go back to that left a heavy feeling in her chest. 

            Dehydration from her mild hangover –which, goodness, she realized how much of a lightweight she really was– left her unable to cry, so, for the time being, she would get a head start on her morning.  The only thing she needed to do was take care of herself for the day.

            She would drink some water and make some tea, sitting on her couch with a view out into the city until she was finally hydrated enough to be able to cry. 

            Despite wanting out so badly, knowing she was going to be leaving behind four year’s worth of a relationship still hurt.  So, she would mourn what was going to be lost, and allow herself to sit in that depressed emotion for a while.

            Eventually, Gardevoir would release herself from her poké ball, a soothing and comforting aura about her, along with a gentle reminder of sorts to at least eat lunch. 

            That would be nearly all she could manage for the day, because tomorrow, it was sure to be at least a little worse.  But then she would be free.  Free to do whatever with whoever…

 

 

            Standing outside The Motel Bar in Mistralton City, Diantha took a deep breath in one last attempt to gather her nerve.  She had been dropped off by a driver a while ago, and finally decided on exactly what she wanted to say to Mel.   He wouldn’t make time to see her, so she was going to go to him, and end things there.  She had dragged it out for long enough.  It was well past time. 

            The second she stepped foot into the bar one of the crewmen was quick to stop her. 

            “I’m sorry, Miss, we’re–“

            “I’m here to see the director,” she said, keeping emotion out of her voice.  The second she let it in, it would ruin everything. 

            He seemed off put by her cold attitude.  “Is he expecting you…?”

            She shook her head.  “No, but he _will_ make time for me.  Now let me through,” she told him.

            He stepped back, but not without rolling his eyes and making a rude comment under his breath. 

            Following the set noise around her, she worked her way through the throng of people, keeping an eye out for his dyed blond head.  Cameras were set up, and people were seated around the bar, reading over some papers.  Surly Mel would be around. 

            “Miss Diantha?”

            Hearing her name, she followed the voice, locking eyes with one of Mel’s personal assistants.  He was a wiry young man, barely taller than herself, with long brown hair pulled up into a neat bun. 

            “Theo, where’s the director?” she asked.  She hoped her emphasis of ‘the director’ as opposed to his name would let the young man know that this was a serious matter. 

            “Uh,” he stammered.  He looked around nervously, clutching his tablet closer to his chest.  “He’s a little occupied at the minute, Miss Diantha.”  He looked around, seeming to be hoping for some backup of some sort. 

            “He can spare a moment, Theo.  I’m not going to be long,” she told him, attempting to step away from him.  If he wasn’t going to give her any answers, she would just figure it out.  There weren’t too many places he could be within the bar, anyways.  Somewhere was probably set up to be his temporary office.

            He stepped in her way, blocking her from leaving.  “I’m sorry, Miss Diantha, he’s busy– Was he expecting you?”

            She had only been asked twice, but she was already fed up with the question.  She crossed her arms.  “No.  Where is he, Theo?”

            “The back office has been turned into his office for now, but he’s really busy right now and I don’t think–“

            “If I wasn’t so upset right now, I would be very concerned with how you’re behaving, but I have a conversation that I need to have with Mel that cannot wait.”  She stepped around him, ignoring his further attempts to stall her, and forcing down whatever thoughts tried to creep up of just _why_ he was trying to stall her. 

            _“Somebody get me a communicator!”_

            _That_ she couldn't ignore. 

            A few other people called for her attention; some questions of what she was doing on their set, but they were all ignored.  She was a woman on a mission. 

            At the end of the hallway that lead towards the restrooms was another door that was opened.  It was her best shot.  After that, all that was left to search was the kitchen.

            In the doorway, her hands fell to her side at the sight of just what –or, rather, _who_ – was keeping Mel so busy. 

            A young redheaded woman seating atop his makeshift desk, his hand on her thigh, just enough distance between them for Diantha to safely assume he had probably been kissing her.  What also hurt was that she knew this woman.  Aria Grey.  They had crossed paths plenty of times, and had even worked on the same set together a few times. 

            Mel looked up to see who was in his office, eyes wide the second he registered who it was. 

            All at once she felt anger, humiliation, and betrayal, and all of it was enough to burn her with a hot flash. 

            But just as quickly as the feelings came, they were replaced with a deathly calm.  “Well, isn’t this a sight?” she said, harrowed by the feeling of being unable to express anything.  It was as if she had taken a step back from her own body, only able to watch what was happening.  Anything she _wanted_ to express refused to come to her.

            “Diantha– shit– I–“ He quickly stood, Aria throwing a look over her shoulder, looking just about as horrified as he did. 

            “So, is this why you’ve been so busy?” she asked.

            “It’s not what you think!” he attempted. 

            She shrugged, looking between the two of them.  “What else am I supposed to think about my boyfriend’s hand on another woman’s thigh?”  She wanted to yell. 

            Aria hopped off the desk, looking up at Mel.  “You told me you left her!”

            Maybe Aria was trying to cover her own ass, but Diantha decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.  “Aria, this is between me and Mel.  You should leave,” she told her. 

            Her shoes clicked on the wood floor, the sound irritating Diantha even more.  “Diantha, I am so sorry, I–“

            The look she gave her was cold enough to stop her.  “Leave, Aria, before I take my anger out on you, too.”

            Without another word, she left, leaving just her and Mel alone in the office.  Down the hall she could still hear voices of everyone on set.  Silence sat heavy between them for a few minutes. 

            She crossed and uncrossed her arms a few times, trying to figure out where to begin.  The deathly calm she was experiencing was freaking her out, but she couldn’t even properly experience that feeling.  No matter how much she wanted to yell, her voice remained calm.  “How long?” she finally asked. 

            He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Diantha–“

            “How. Long,” she repeated.

            He sighed again.  “It’s not…been just her.”

            He had already broken her heart.  Now he was just stepping on the pieces.  “ _Tell me how long_ ,” she demanded, feeling a tinge of _something_ for the first time since stepping in his office.  She wouldn’t cry, though.  Not here.  He wasn’t worth her tears. 

            He refused to make eye contact as he answered.  “For the past two years…”

            “ _Two years?_ ” Her voice cracked.  “Why– _Mel!_ ” She felt the calm cracking. 

            Sure, she was well aware that things had been going south since the beginning of the year, but thinking back to two years prior, things had at least been better.  She was positive she, at the time, saw a future with him, and couldn’t think of anything that would lead her to believe he was being unfaithful. 

            “I’m sorry.”  He didn’t sound sorry enough. 

            “Sorry?  You’re _sorry?_   How could you?”

            He didn’t seem to have an answer for her, instantly sending her on a downward spiral. 

            What had she done to deserve that?  Was it punishment for flirting with Cynthia?  Was it punishment for having the nerve to find her attractive from the moment she met her?  Was it punishment for her behavior during the last international meeting?  Was it some sort of punishment for not being good enough?

            On that thought, she stopped herself.  She had been more than good enough.  She had been better than he deserved.  It wasn’t a crime to find someone attractive, and the thing with Cynthia was only recent.  While, still treading into emotionally cheating, it didn’t mean it was okay for him to have been cheating on her for the last two years with who knows how many other women.

            He tried taking another step towards her, reaching a hand out.  “Babe, I–“

            She swatted his hand away.  She wasn’t about to let him ever call her that again.  “Don’t you even try to sweet talk me!  I swore off every other person to be with you exclusively!  And you cheat on me for _two whole years_ instead of just leaving?”

            She still refused to cry. 

            He threw his hands up, exasperated.  “Look!  You’re always gone, and we’re never in the same region!  You just– And all the shit you’ve put me through in the past month?  You don’t know what it’s like!”

            She wouldn’t cry.  Even as he tried to pin this all as her fault, even though he was clearly in control of his own actions. 

            “Are you really going to stand here and try to blame me?  For your cheating?” She closed the distance between them, intent on getting in his face.  Even though she still struggled to get across just how upset she was, she would make it clear to him.  “You made the conscious decision, Mel Gardner!  I didn’t tell you to crawl into bed with someone!  And what about your whole nonsense about the beast we work with?  You’re the only always telling me how you’re the only one who would understand not being around each other often!”

            “Keep your voice down– we don’t want–“

            “Oh, please, it seems to me that everyone on your set is already aware of what you’ve been doing.  Everyone seemed pretty intent on stalling for as much time as possible before I got to you.”  She found her thoughts all over the place, wanting to be mad about everything.  Keeping her words in order was becoming a chore.  She just wanted to smack him and never have to deal with him ever again.

            He stepped back from her, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.  “Diantha, let’s just…let’s just keep this at a low profile for now.  Until both our projects are done.  I’ll have Andrew arrange to send you your things.”

            As always, it had to be whatever was most convenient for him.  It brought tears to her eyes and a tremble to her voice.  Now she was just struggling to retain the calm.  “So fucking help me if I ever see you again.”  

            She hesitated for a mere second, allowing herself one last look over the face of the man she swore she loved not long ago.  A pop of freckles across his face telling her he had been in the sun recently.  Facial hair he always kept perfectly groomed.  His blue-grey eyes. His dyed blond hair had been maybe redone a month ago, because his roots were starting to show.

            She forced herself to start walking, not wanting to start remembering when times had still been good.  It was all tainted with the knowledge that he had been cheating on her. 

            She wasn’t one to subscribe to ‘An eye for an eye’ mentality, but she couldn’t help but think her thing with Cynthia was exactly what he deserved. 

            His footsteps followed her into the back hallway, but he never said anything to stop her. 

            The main area of the bar was suddenly too loud.  Every little sound echoed around her.  From the idle chatter between all the extras, the screeching of a chair against the wooden floor, to the sound of heels on wood that were getting louder towards her. 

            “Diantha, please, I am so, so sorry.”

            She looked up into Aria’s hazel eyes, and for a second, she wanted to be furious.  How hard was a simple Google search to verify if she and Mel had actually broken up or not? 

            Putting a hand up, she simply dismissed the other woman, not wanting to risk taking her anger out on her.  Diantha would continue to give her the benefit of the doubt.  She didn’t need more to be angry about. 

            As if to rub salt in the wound, Theo stopped her just before she could escape the over-stimulation of the bar. 

             “Miss Diantha, I am so sorry,” he said, looking down at her with sad brown eyes. 

            Unfortunately for him, Theo wasn’t safe from her wrath.  The only grace she would offer him was keeping her voice down.  “If you were truly sorry, you would have told me any of the last _six_ times I’ve seen you,” she hissed. 

            He shrunk into his tablet again, stepping aside to let her pass. 

            Without another word to anyone, she stepped out into the cool Mistralton evening.  Thick, billowy white clouds had formed to the north, and the smell of rain permeated the air with a dampness that signaled an oncoming storm front. 

            Sincerely, from the very bottom of her heart, she hoped it ruined Mel’s shoot. 

            From her purse she withdrew Gardevoir’s poké ball, who instead released herself before anything had to be said. 

            She looked at Diantha with sympathy, but radiated an energy that was warm and comforting.  It was as if she was saying, _‘Concentrate on my energy,’_ so that she wouldn't have to feel anything apart from it. 

            “My dear Sylvia, I am terribly sorry to ask this of you since it’s such a long journey, but I need to get back to home in Castelia.” She felt her voice wanting to crack. “I don’t think I can keep it together long enough to be driven back.”

            With a hum, Gardevoir nodded.  Soon enough, they were back in Castelia City, just outside the apartment building.  The sun was hidden behind the surrounding buildings, and the air no longer felt saturated by the threat of rain. 

            “Thank you, dear,” Diantha said, looking to Gardevoir. 

            She held out her poké ball again, knowing that such a long teleportation would have taken a lot of energy out of her. 

            She shook her head, intent on being out with her longer. 

            Diantha wasn’t in the frame of mind to argue.  With a nod to follow her in, they headed inside, and made their way up to her floor.  The entire ride, Gardevoir continued to put out her warm aura, but even despite it, the wall Diantha had put up was slowly crumbling around her. 

            She had stepped back into her body, and hated everything she was beginning to feel. 

            At her door, she fumbled with the keys, dropping them after a second attempt at fitting the key into its slot. With a frustrated grumble she went to pick them up, forcing the key to fit. 

            Gardevoir beat her inside, still looking at her with such concern, it was enough to upset her. 

            She slammed the door behind her, promptly ripping her purse off her body and throwing it into the cushions of her white couch. 

            “I just don’t understand, Gardevoir.”  She began to pace around the area, eventually coming to a stop at the bar’s countertop.  “ _Why_ wouldn’t he just leave?  Why did he drag this out for _two whole years_ – I–“

            She felt something in her break as she leaned on the marble countertop. 

_Two years._

            The fruit basket that sat atop the marble came into view, and without thinking, she grabbed it and flung it as hard as she could across the room with a distraught yell.  Crumbling atop the counter, she hardly had the strength to remain standing as sobs wracked her whole body.    

            For months now she had wanted to leave him, and just as she had come to the realization that she didn’t need a specific reason, he handed her an even bigger reason to leave.  All the times he was suspicious of her began to make sense, and maybe even a few instances of where she felt she _should_ have noticed something was amiss. 

            Realizing that the sound of the fruit basket hitting something never came, she looked up. 

            In front of her, Gardevoir stood, the basket and its contents in her psychic grasp.  Carefully, she put everything back in order on the dining table. 

            The gesture was kind and not lost on Diantha, but for the moment, she was too consumed with her own pain that it was all she could do to not collapse completely on the kitchen floor. 

            In an instant, Gardevoir was there, holding her in a tight embrace, humming a low, soothing sound as she carefully lowered them to the ground.  It wasn’t enough to dry her tears, but it at least gave her something to attempt to focus on rather than all the different “ _Whys?”_

            From the living space, a bright flash lit up the room.  Goodra, Hawlucha, and Gourgeist had all released themselves, and were now rushing to her side as well.  They each gave her concerned whines as they approached. 

            In Hawlucha’s little claws, she held two minimized poké balls for Aurorus and Tyrantrum.  While they hadn’t appeared, like with Cynthia’s Garchomp, there was an energy that radiated from their capsules, cold and warm respectively. 

            Through teary eyes she looked over her team, only to begin crying all over again.  Their love and support for her meant the absolute world, and while it wouldn’t take the pain of betrayal away, it lessened it by reminding her that, above all else, they all cared for her more than he ever would have… 

 

 

            Coffee in one hand, phone with the script in the other, Cynthia hardly paid attention as she walked through the studio.  Nobody around her needed to know that it had taken seven hits of her snooze button to finally motivate herself to actually get out of bed that morning.  They also didn’t need to know it was all due to being absolutely on the edge of her own anxiety over seeing Diantha again after their conversation late Friday night that had ended with a kiss on the cheek.  A kiss she had definitely been thinking way too much about.

            Instead, she looked to project that she was just simply refreshing herself on whatever scene it was they were going to be filming for the day. 

            Over the weekend, Tom had called her, telling her something about the bar they were supposed to be filming in facing legal trouble.  He had then told her to just come into the studio on Monday afternoon, and something about filming a back-alley scene until that was solved.  However, he never specified which back-alley scene, so that left her with a few to look over. 

            “Has Tom tried getting ahold of Diantha?”

            While the question wasn’t directed at her, it was enough to distract her from reading over the script. 

            Tuning into everything around her, the studio seemed abuzz with an anxious energy.  PA’s were scrambling around, asking the same questions to each other. 

            Listening in, she heard the PA Kara say to Tom, “Complex says her Gardevoir won’t let anyone come near her door, and…look, sir, I’m just not paid nearly enough to deal with that.  Besides, my little Scorbunny is no match for her, anyways.”

            Instantly, Cynthia was on alert.  Slipping her phone into her pocket, she approached Tom and Kara.  “Can I ask what’s going on?”

            Kara sighed heavily while Tom rubbed his face, pinching the bridge of his nose as he spoke.  “Diantha called in this morning to tell me she wasn’t going to show, but when I tried to get an answer as to why, she wouldn't answer me.  Now, she’s not answering anyone.”  He grumbled.  “Apparently, now her Gardevoir is going nuts and doing that Gardevoir thing where they act like they’re about to create a black hole to keep everyone away.”

            While she knew Diantha had an affinity for the theatrics, this seemed overboard, even for her.  “Want me to try to talk to her?” she offered.  Hopefully she stood a chance at being able to get through. 

            Kara winced, shoving her glasses back up her face with a finger.  “Her phone has been going straight to voicemail, so I doubt she’ll even take a call.”

            Not knowing whether or not it was something she was technically supposed to know, she asked, “Where’s she staying again?”

            Tom looked at her.  “It’s a ritzy complex called The Meridian, uptown.  Old art deco building.  Hard to miss.”

            She nodded.  “Let me try to talk to her.  I can get past her Gardevoir.”  Hopefully without a battle, but she was confident she could put her out if push came to shove.  The result wouldn’t be the same as it had been at the World Tournament. 

            Tom rolled his eyes and shook his head, but she knew he didn’t have much of a choice.  All the shoots they had left still involved her in one way or another, and the ones that didn’t involved the other star, Coral Santos, who still wasn’t available for another few days.

            “I’ll arrange some things.  Maybe just take some stock city footage for now.  Be back before three,” he instructed. 

            She and Kara watched him leave. 

            Kara turned to Cynthia, pulling her phone from her back pocket.  “I’ll call The Meridian and let them know you’re going to try next.”

            “Thank you, Kara,” she said, turning away to leave the same way she came in. 

            Downing the last half of her coffee quick enough to just barely burn her tongue, it was tossed into an outside bin as she released Braviary. 

            They had flown there a few times by then, but never with as much urgency. 

            Landing on the front terrace, she gave a quick thank you to her pokémon as she jumped off her back, and was only halfway through recalling her when two of the building’s staff greeted her. 

            “Madame Champion!” The taller of the two greeted. 

            Both were adorned in mute formalwear, black and gold pins with their names on their shirts.  Adam and Vera.

            “Please, right this way,” Adam said as he and Vera opened the doors for her. 

            For a brief second, she took in the whole visage of the building during the daytime.  It was the only time she had been there during the day, and it was interesting to her to see so many people milling about the lobby.  Off to the side, the piano still sat, but was now roped off. 

            Vera kept by her side.  “The manager wants to speak with you, if that’s alright,” she said, walking her to the front office. 

            “No problem,” she said, keeping a casual air.  She wasn’t going to add to the stress of the situation.  She was there to dissolve tensions, not to raise them. 

            An older man, maybe in his late fifties with hair so white it seemed unnatural, met her in the doorway.  The name on his nametag was too small for her to read quickly.   “Thank you, Vera,” he said, dismissing her. 

            She left without a word, and he brought her into the office space. 

            “Madame Champion–“ she was rarely ever called that in Sinnoh, but she was certainly starting to like it “–Thank you for taking time out of your day to…deal with this.  Especially considering this isn’t even your region.”

            She shrugged lightly.  “It’s no problem, really.  We’re already working on a project together, and there’s no need to bother Iris about this,” she tried to joke.  It landed flat.  He was strictly business. 

            “I would say I don’t care how you calm down her Gardevoir, but unfortunately, I kind of do.  She’s begun to concern other tenants, and I can’t have that.  The next step after this is having law enforcement come and set up an anti-psychic barrier.”  He began talking with his hands.  “Bad for my reputation, bad for her reputation, bad all around, you get me?” he asked.

            She nodded. 

            “If I can ask, please, do not let this turn into a pokémon battle.  There’s not enough space in that hallway to battle an angry psychic pokémon, and I don’t need the risk of anyone getting hurt.  Is that clear?”

            “Sure thing.”  That didn’t mean she wouldn't keep that on the backburner.  If push came to shove, and a battle was the only way to calm her down, she wouldn’t back down so easily.  She wouldn't let anyone’s reputation take a hit like that.  She was more than confident in her ability to keep a battle under wraps if need be. 

            He smiled, some tension seeming to fall from his shoulders.  He pushed his glasses up his face.  “Thank you very much, Madame Champion.  I’ll walk you to the elevator,” he said, stepping out of the office with her. 

            He pressed the up button for her, waiting with her for the elevator to open.  “You’ll be on the thirty-second floor, and she’s apartment 827.  I trust you know this is highly confidential information.”

            For a split second, all she could think about was wanting to ask him how on earth did the apartment numbering system work, because 827 on the thirty-second floor made no sense in her mind.  But that was beside the point. 

            “You have my word as a champion that I won’t be sharing that with anyone.  I like my privacy just as much as she does,” she promised.

            He nodded.  “Good, because, to my knowledge, she rarely brings anyone to this apartment.  This was supposed to be a safe space for her, like it is for many talents.  I will be giving her my apologies afterwards, but I do believe this is the safest course for her reputation.  The young woman I spoke with on the phone said you two are good friends, so I’m hoping she won’t be too upset by this.”

            At least he seemed to care more than just about the reputation of his complex.  There seemed to be some semblance of caring for Diantha’s wellbeing as well, which she greatly appreciated.

            The manager wished her luck as she stepped into the elevator, again quickly asking to not battle Gardevoir, and then the doors shut behind her.  Just in time for her phone to start ringing.  Glancing at the contact, she saw it was Mandy.

            It had been a while since they last talked.  Hopefully, it would be a quick enough conversation. 

            “Hey, Mandy, kinda busy,” she greeted. 

            _“Just wanted to do a quick check in, but if I need to call back, let me know._ ”

            She looked up at the panel that told her what floor she was passing.  It was going slow enough, so she could likely manage a minute or two.  “If I randomly hang up, don’t get upset,” she warned. 

            _“Fair.  How’re things going?  You gonna go full-time movie star, yet?”_

            She laughed.  She had yet to fill in Mandy on how disgusting Alexander was turning out, and how much she was quickly disliking Tom.  That was all a conversation that could wait until she got back to Sinnoh.  “Hardly.  I’m actually about to see what’s up with Diantha.  Apparently, she’s not been taking anyone’s call, and her Gardevoir won’t let anyone near her apartment.”

            There was a laugh on her end.  _“Dang, she really is a drama queen, isn’t she? What? She break a nail?”_

            Cynthia had also conveniently left out a lot of how close she had gotten with Diantha.  She didn’t need a scolding from her manager on why it was probably a bad idea.  “I would laugh, but this is even a little extreme for her.”

            _“Alright, I guess I’ll leave you to it.  If you end up doing something stupid and need me to find a way to spin it in a positive light, I_ guess _I’ll come to your rescue,”_ she teased. 

            She didn’t think there was much of a way to spin falling for her costar.  “Thanks, Mandy.  I’ll talk to you later.” 

            _“Later, champ.”_

            Hanging up, she returned her phone to her pocket, the elevator giving the smallest shake as it came to a full stop. 

            The second the doors opened, there was a pressure about the whole floor.  It reminded her of when Gardevoir had been mad at Alexander in Diantha’s dressing room, but this time was even more intense.  With it filling the entire hallway, she felt bad for any other residents. 

            Figuring out which ways the numbers went, it wasn’t hard for her to find the way to Diantha’s door.  Though, it could have been found just as easily by following the direction the pressure got worse. 

            At the end of the hallway, she took a right, and hovering before her was Gardevoir.  She was high in the air, close to the ceiling, doing her best to appear as intimidating as possible as she narrowed her red eyes at Cynthia. 

            “Let me talk to Diantha, Gardevoir.  Talking is all I want to do.  I’m not going to force her to go anywhere or do anything else,” she promised. 

            There was a harsh sound that passed the hum barrier.  It was something far sharper, touching the very back of her mind. 

            Diantha had once described to her that communicating with Gardevoir as being something that, while lacking literal words, was something that came across as an obvious feeling. 

            She could have sworn she heard a broken and angry, “ _L E A V E”_ as Gardevoir moved to stand right in front of her, eyes glowing at the edges with a threat to use her psychic powers. 

            The mental pressure was starting to turn into a piercing headache.  As much as it hurt, Cynthia knew she couldn’t flinch.  As with other high-pressure moments as of late, she reminded herself that she had looked into Giratina’s eyes, a swirling red that had promised to take her life if she even dared flinch. 

            Gardevoir’s eyes almost reminded her of exactly how she felt in that moment.  She at least figured that Gardevoir would instead just teleport her away at worst. 

            “Gardevoir, please.  I don’t want to go against what I said to the manager.”  She pulled out a poké ball from her pocket, warmth seeping into her hand.  “Garchomp and I will battle you if we have to.”  And this time they wouldn't lose. 

            Gardevoir didn’t budge.

            “After me, it’s an anti-psychic barrier.  You and I know Diantha can be dramatic, but that would be too much for even her,” she reasoned.

            As Gardevoir continued to stare down at her, the weight of her gaze was crushing.  It was as if she was staring through her very soul, searching for a reason to make her leave. 

            Just as the headache was treading into migraine territory, with the hallway lighting and every tiny sound becoming unbearable, it stopped.  The pressure vanished, and Gardevoir hovered down to her usual height. 

            With a nod, she teleported away. 

            Taking a deep breath, she held it for a moment to collect herself before letting it go.  Heading to the door, before she could even knock, Gardevoir opened the door, her eyes glowing faintly from her psychic powers. 

            Walking with her inside, she kept closely with Gardevoir.  The apartment was neat and orderly, with a very bright, but neutral color scheme.  Mostly greys and white.  Something that could probably be rented out easily when Diantha wasn’t there. 

            Walking down the narrow hallway, Gardevoir stopped just outside a door, looking at Cynthia with a heavy stare one last time.  With another nod, she teleported away, leaving Cynthia alone in the hallway. 

            With a soft knock on the fame, she poked her head in the room.  “Hey, it’s Cynthia.”

            The room was awash in a dim lighting from the curtains.  Diantha lay atop her covers, a pillow in her arms as she stared at the wall.  She didn’t even move as she acknowledged her.  “Gardevoir told me you were here.” 

            Her voice was scratchy, an evident pain that hit home to Cynthia just how rough she looked overall. 

            She walked over to the bed, not sure if it was okay or not to sit down. 

            “What do you want, dear Cynthia?” she asked, unable to look at her.  She was almost ashamed that she was even allowing her to see her like this.  Hair a mess, and face still red and painful from crying most of the night, well into the current day. 

            The mattress below her moved a bit as Cynthia sat at the end.  “Just wanted to see if everything’s alright.  Studio was in a panic when I got there since nobody could get ahold of you.  I got really worried.”

            Pain rose in her chest, feeling guilty for worrying her over something that didn’t matter like she thought it should. 

            She laughed weakly, keeping her eyes on the wall.  “Oh, everything is fine, dear Cynthia.  I just couldn't get my hair right, and decided to throw an absolute temper tantrum, that’s all,” she blatantly lied. 

            Cynthia leaned over on her arm, mindful of Diantha’s legs.  “Is that really all?” she asked.

            Diantha wanted to continue lying.  To keep avoiding and deflecting the conversation.  She didn’t want to explain what had happened, and why she was overreacting.  She didn’t want to risk judgement from Cynthia, because that would only be rubbing salt on the wound. 

            But she also didn’t want to lie to her.

            With a shake of her head, she just barely looked down at Cynthia.  “I am…telling you this in confidence.”  A tremble reappeared in her voice, despite her best efforts to keep it even.  “I’m– I guess not supposed to talk about it until it’s convenient for him, or whatever…How it always was.”

            Cynthia adjusted herself, tentatively placing a hand on her leg. 

            “When I went up to Mistralton yesterday to leave Mel in person, I found out he had been cheating on me for the better half of our relationship.  More than one person.  The most recent a woman I know, and I walked in on them in his office.”

            While Cynthia hadn’t liked him from the very beginning, it still hurt to hear.  A searing shot of sympathy pain tore through her chest.  “Diantha, I am so sorry.” 

            Twice she had already been told that, but there was something about it being from Cynthia, she was at least a little receptive to it.  At least enough to not want to yell her out of the room. 

            Cynthia moved closer as Diantha sat up, still mindful of her hand placements.  She was still in a fragile state, and with a protective Gardevoir nearby, she wanted to make sure nothing was coming off inappropriately. 

            Diantha shook her head, pushing her hair away from her face.  “The thing is…I’ve been dying to get out of this relationship for months now,” she said.  Carefully, she moved closer to rest her head on Cynthia’s shoulder.  The arm she in turn put around her was warm, and at least offered some semblance of safety.  “I don’t even know why I’m so upset.  He’s been an absolute nightmare!  He would constantly accuse me of cheating, a-and wanted to know where I was at during any given moment.  It was awful, Cynthia!” 

            Pulling her into a hug was all Cynthia could think to do.  She hated that Diantha had put up with it all as long as she did.  While she would never truly understand why she did, she knew it was beside the point.  The human mind was a wild thing, and could convince a person to do just about anything, no matter how irrational. Truly, she couldn’t find it within herself to blame her.   

            Diantha held onto her tightly, the sobbing beginning all over again.  “It was like I was constantly walking on eggshells with him!  I could never do anything right, and believe me!  I tired!  I tried so very hard to do everything right.  I was always there for him.  Whenever I was home in Kalos I tried to be with him.  I scheduled so much around him.  I was the model girlfriend, and what does he do?  He goes and cheats on me…and then he has the audacity to try to blame me for it…” She could hardly keep the sobs from her voice.  “Saying I'm the one who’s always gone…”

            Rubbing a hand along her back, she tried her best to just let her cry it out.  There wasn’t much she could say that would heal things any faster than time would.  All she could do for now was be there for her, and offer her support in whichever way she needed.  If it was a shoulder to cry on, she was more than willing to do that. 

            Above all else, above all other feelings that lurked under the surface, she was her friend, and she was going to be there for her.

            After a while, the crying subsided again, and all she was left with was a hollow feeling in her chest, and the warmth of Cynthia’s embrace.  Carefully, she pulled herself away, sighing heavily as she wiped her tears.  Her face felt raw and painful.

            Cynthia reached up, delicately wiping away a tear with her thumb.  “I want you to know that you didn’t deserve any of it.  Being away from each other is no excuse.  No matter how much he tries to pin it on you, that was _his_ decision, and his decision alone.  He’s not an animal.  He has the ability to make rational decisions for himself.”

            She nodded, leaning into her hand.  “I know that.  I told myself that the entire night, and yet…” She sighed again.  “It’s odd being this relieved, all while also being in an equal amount of pain.”

            Cynthia nodded, moving her hand from her cheek down to her arm.  “It might have been one thing had you just broken up with him because you two just weren’t compatible anymore.  Because you were going in different paths, or whatever.  It might have even been one thing if he had just left you out of the blue two years ago like he should have at the very least, but…”

            “But I found out he’s been cheating on me for the last two years.”

            “Exactly,” she responded.  “I’m not going to sit here and pretend I know exactly how you’re feeling.  I’ve been cheated on too, though, and so I know it hurts, but…” she lost her train of thought completely.  “I don’t know where I’m going with this, sorry,” she apologized. 

            She shook her head lightly.  “Don’t worry, dear Cynthia.  I’m sorry it happened to you.”

            She shrugged.  “It was a long time ago, so don’t even worry about it.  Right now, what do you need?”

            She thought it over for a moment, but in that time, all she could come up with was her desire to change clothes and get out of her stuffy room.  “I’m going to change.  Would you come sit with me in the living room?  I’m tired of being cooped up in here,” she said. 

            With a nod, Cynthia stood, keeping a hold of one of Diantha’s hands, helping her stand. 

            On her feet, she began to feel lightheaded.  She desperately needed to rehydrate after crying so much, and she definitely needed to eat as well.  Putting a hand on her forehead, she held onto Cynthia with the other, trying to just breathe through the headrush she was experiencing.

            “I’ll go get you some water, you get changed.”  They still had until three when Tom told her to be back.  Plenty of time to collect themselves. 

            She nodded, starting to let go of her to step away to her closet for a change of clothes.  However, just as her hand was about to leave her arm completely, she stopped herself. 

            Maybe it was a stupid decision given the timing of everything, but it was finally one she wasn’t going to feel any guilt over.  Giving in to her own selfish desire, she stood up on her toes, still having to pull Cynthia down so she could kiss her cheek. 

            “I hope you know how wonderful you are, my dear Cynthia.”

            When she said it, she couldn't think of a single reason to not believe her.  “I’m here for you, in any way you need.” _Or want._   But she wasn’t going to rush things.  She wasn't going to let one more cheek kiss go directly to her head. 

            Walking out of the room, she easily found her way to the kitchen.  Gardevoir still stood by, over by the windows, but was far calmer than she had been when Cynthia arrived.  It was a welcome sight. 

            Before heading into the kitchen, she made a quick side trip to the door to take her shoes off.  She had a feeling it would be a while before they left, if they even did.  She intended on keeping her word that she wouldn’t force Diantha to do anything. 

            Heading back, she stood in front of the sink, looking at all the cabinets around her, wondering which one held glasses.  Before she could take a guess, one of them opened on its own. 

            A small hum let her know Gardevoir had done it. 

            “Thank you, Gardevoir,” she said, quickly shooting a nod at the pokémon.  

            She returned the gesture. 

            While filling up a glass from the filtered tap, warmth radiated from her pocket.  Pulling out the poké ball in question, she realized it was Garchomp’s.  It brought a small smile to her face.  Likely, Garchomp wanted to be able to make sure Diantha was okay, too. 

            “Wait a few minutes, okay?” she said, putting her ball away.  She wanted to make sure it was okay with Diantha to release her since she was a larger pokémon. 

             Glass filled, she was about to move to the living room when her phone started to ring.  She was a second away from declining the call when she saw it was Tom.  Setting the glass down on the bar countertop, she slid to answer.  “Hey, Tom.”

            _“How’s things going?”_ he asked, a little too directly for her liking. 

            She hummed.  “I’ve gotten Gardevoir to calm down, so it’s a start.”  She wasn’t about to let him know all of the details.  He didn’t need or deserve them. 

            _“So, good news for the drama queen, bad news for everyone else: it’s supposed to storm the rest of the day, and I legally can’t have you all out in a storm.  So, today’s pretty much cancelled.  I’ll send out some texts later when I get a better sense of what we’re doing tomorrow.”_

            “Alright, I’ll let her know.” 

            He hung up on her without another word, which was probably for the best.  She found herself absolutely hating the way he continued to call her a drama queen.  He always said it in such a way that sounded far worse than the simple phrase really was. 

            “Let me know what?”

            Cynthia turned to look at her, putting her phone back into her pocket.  She had changed into a heavy white sweatshirt, some sleeping shorts, and had brushed her hair.  It was a very comfortable look, and solidified the idea that they probably weren’t going anywhere the rest of the day.  At least, Diantha wasn’t.  Cynthia would leave if she asked her to. 

            “Filming has been cancelled for today.  Something about storms,” she answered, walking around the bar to meet her in the living room.  Handing her the glass of water, they both sat down on the couch. 

            “Oh, thank gods,” she said under her breath before taking a drink.  It wasn’t until the water hit her lips that she realized how parched she was. 

            Leaning back on the arm, Cynthia kept a neutral distance between them.  “So, let me ask: Do you want me to stay, or would you prefer I leave?” she asked.

            Diantha met her eyes, torn between answering honestly, and not wanting to bother her any more than she alright thought she had.  “I don’t want to force you to stay,” she said, hoping it was open-ended enough. 

            “You’re not forcing me.  I’m offering,” she said.

            She couldn’t find a reason to lie at that.  “Then I would greatly enjoy your company,” she admitted. 

            With a smile, Cynthia leaned forward to take her phone out of her back pocket.  “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me,” she said, placing the device face down on the coffee table. 

            “I guess you’re going to be here awhile then, my dear Cynthia.”

             She had the thought the last time they were together, and she would probably continue to have it every time it was said.  But ‘ _my_ dear Cynthia’ was something she could get very used to hearing. 

            Before she could lean back, she remembered Garchomp.  “Before I forget, I think Garchomp wants to see you.  Is it okay if I let her out?”

            “Go right ahead,” she answered, more surprised to hear it.  She hadn’t realized Cynthia’s pokémon felt anything towards her. 

            Standing up, Cynthia moved to a spot where Garchomp could be released without knocking into anything.  “Please be careful.  I don’t want you breaking something,” she said right before releasing her. 

            She stretched upon being released, but it was far more reserved than normal.  Taking a quick survey of her surroundings, the second her eyes landed on Diantha, she made a small chuff noise, carefully making her way over to her.

            “Hello, darling,” Diantha said, offering a hand out to her.  It absolutely charmed her the way she carried herself to carefully as to not disturb anything in the space.  With her being such a large pokémon, it took a practiced patience. 

            Garchomp leaned down, putting her snout in her hand, before pushing harder to get closer. 

            It got a laugh from Diantha as she placed her glass down on the table.  “I didn’t realize you could be so affectionate,” she said, laughing again as Garchomp rubbed her face against hers. 

            Cynthia had moved to stand behind the couch, leaning over the back.  “When she wants to be.”

            Diantha looked up at her.  “Much like how you can be a hopeless romantic when you want to be?”

            She smiled, brushing her bangs away from her face.  “Professor Rowan believes that trainers and their pokémon are more alike that we realize.  I was worried about you when I was told nobody could get ahold of you, and when I saw how serious Gardevoir was about keeping people away?  It…yeah.  I was worried.  So was she.”

            Diantha glanced over at her pokémon, who was trying to appear like she wasn’t paying any attention but failing to do so.  “My apologies.  It seems Gardevoir took me very seriously when I told her to keep everyone away because I didn’t want to look at a single person all day.”

            Cynthia looked over at the psychic pokémon, who had returned to looking outside.  “Why did she let me in, then?”

            Diantha shrugged, resuming her petting of Garchomp.  “Like you said, maybe she’s more like me than I'm giving her credit for.  Or maybe she just knew I would be receptive to you.”

            “I think she stared into my soul,” Cynthia joked, standing up so she could go back to sitting on the couch. 

            Diantha nodded, a hand still on Garchomp as the pokémon began to walk away, falling off at her haunches.  “She was probably reading your intentions.  If you had intended me any harm, or anything she thought I wouldn't like, she probably wouldn't have let you in.”

            As always, psychic pokémon amazed Cynthia.  Though, it could have done without the migraine. 

            Sitting next to Diantha once more, she told Garchomp to go lay down somewhere.  The dragon chose a spot by the window, not far off from Gardevoir.  With a few quick circles, she laid down with a heavy, yet content sigh. 

            In a quick decision, Diantha leaned over, throwing an arm around Cynthia and resting her head on her shoulder.  With a quick adjustment, Cynthia had an arm around her. 

            “When did you start working for Professor Rowan?” Diantha asked, wanting a distraction of some sort.  Though, being in Cynthia’s arms might have already been enough of one. 

            She thought on it for a second, having to remind herself exactly how old she was.  “I was…about fourteen when my grandmother helped me get an internship with him.   I spent around four years doing field work for him, but then at eighteen I became the champion.  Now I just do research in conjunction with him.  Usually, I just send him a proposal of what it is I want to research, and if he likes it, he’ll put together the funding I need for it.  I tend to stick to things related to archaeology.”

            She nodded.  “A friend of mine, Augustine, studied under Professor Rowan for a few years,” she commented.  A quick laugh from Cynthia caught her attention.

            “Wouldn't happen to be Augustine Sycamore, would he?”

            She again nodded.  “Our regional pokémon professor.  Did you two ever work together?”  When she thought on it, the mental math might have worked out. 

            “We did a few field assignments together before I became champion.  I was usually sent with him because I was good at pokémon battles and he…” Well, she didn’t want to talk badly about Diantha’s friend. 

            “He’s bad at them,” she said, amused.  “Don’t worry, darling.  It’s a fact we all know.”  She loved her friend dearly, but there wasn’t any use hiding the fact.  Competitive battling was never something he was into to begin with, anyways. 

            “We battled once.  It was right after Garchomp evolved from Gabite, and she wanted to take on his Garchomp.”  She looked over to her pokémon.  “We beat him in what…three moves?”

            Garchomp made an agreeing grumble, to which Diantha laughed. 

            “His Garchomp probably could have defended him, but I’m glad we went.  It was one of my first times going to Iron Island.”

            She wasn’t too familiar with Sinnoh’s geography.  “What’s on Iron Island?” Apart from well, iron.

            “Currently: an abandoned iron ore mine, that’s owned by one of my gym leaders, Byron.  But in the past, it was a ceremonial ground for one of Sinnoh’s ancient empires.  Their central deity was a god that somewhat resembled modern day mega-evolved Lucario, and so Augustine wanted to see if any of their ruins gave any indication of mega evolution being present in Sinnoh…”

            Somewhere in the middle of her explanation, Diantha pulled herself away from Cynthia, thoroughly content to watch how she then began to talk with her hands.  A few times during it all, Diantha had to assure her that she wasn’t bored, and that she was enjoying simply listening to her. 

            Eventually, they ended up ordering food in when Diantha’s stomach began to audibly growl.  By the time they had finished lunch, the storm began to roll in.  It started as a light rain, quickly turning into a deluge. 

            Lightning and thunder filled the sky, giving them a display that was a show in of itself.  The display was so prominent, it reminded Cynthia of Unovan myths of a pokémon called Thundurus.  Diantha was more than happy to listen as she explained the mythos behind the pokémon, and the others like it. 

            It was all a bit of a bittersweet feeling to Diantha.  Sure, the past twenty-four hours had been about as bad as they possibly could have, but in the moment, she realized there was nowhere she would rather be than in the arms of her friend, listening to her passionately talk about Unovan mythology.  Surly nowhere else in the world would have felt as warm and safe as she currently did there. 

            She didn’t mean to, but the combined sound of the rain against the windowpane with Cynthia’s soothing voice, and one hand lightly playing with her hair, all brought her into the deep sleep she sorely needed. 

 

 

 

– – – –

PAN IN  
STAIRWAY LEADING UNDERGROUND – MORNING

 Rain pours outside, trickling down into the stairway that’s coated in a black grime from the dirty city.  Elizabeth keeps Scarlet close, stopping them once they’re inside the building.

 

ELIZABETH  
You need to stay close to me. Don’t look at anyone, or speak to anyone until we get to Vicki. 

SCARLET  
Can’t say I’m used to taking orders, but fine. 

They continue their way through the building, working their way down through the lower levels of the city. They pass people now and then, and Scarlet does her best to keep her word and not focus on anyone other than Elizabeth.  

At the end of a long hallway, Elizabeth brings them to a stop, collecting herself for just a moment, before opening the door in front of them. 

Inside sits a woman with her legs propped up on her wooden desk.  VICKI PARK. Tall, brunette, slender face, brown skin, late 20’s.  She’s well dressed and exudes a presence that tells everyone around her she’s the local mob boss. 

Vicki smiles at the two as they step into her office, bringing her feet down from her desk so she can stand. 

VICKI  
Liz!  Took you long enough to get out here.  Been wondering what kept you so long. 

She walks towards them, making circles around them, letting it be known she has a special interest in Scarlet.  She stops her circling in front of Elizabeth, but keeps her eyes on Scarlet. 

VICKI  
Having a little too much fun out in the desert, huh?  Find yourself a little lady friend?  Keeping you busy? 

Elizabeth puts a protective hand on Scarlet’s waist, pulling her close.  

ELIZABETH  
Leave her out of this. What do you need? 

Vicki backs away from the two, leaning back against her desk.  She gives Scarlet a noticeable look-over. 

VICKI  
(flippantly)  
Just need you to go shake someone up a little bit for me.  A vendor up on Malone and 5th.  He’s been skipping out on some of his payments, and while I would send Darmanitan to do it for me, he’s a little busy with Jackdaw and his knuckleheads.  Let him know he’s got one last week to pay up, or he loses everything. 

Elizabeth nods, taking her hand off Scarlet.  

ELIZABETH  
Consider it taken care of. 

VICKI  
You’re the best, Liz! 

They’re about to leave, but Vicki stops them. 

VICKI  
(CONT’D)  
Oh, and by the way: really like this one.  She’s gorgeous, and I can tell she’s got blood on her hands.  You should keep bringing her around. 

Scarlet turns to face her, speaking before Elizabeth can tell her not to. 

SCARLET  
Now, how would you know that? 

Vicki walks up to her, leaning down in her face.  Elizabeth reaches like she’s going to push her away, but stops herself at the last second. 

VICKI  
‘Cause you’re not shaking like that last Lillipup of a girl she brought to stand in front of me.  Can see it in your eyes that you’d like to take a shot at me– Which I like in a woman. 

Scarlet is about to bite back with some quip, but Elizabeth starts pulling her along. 

ELIZABETH  
Let’s go, Scarlet. 

VICKI  
If she ever doesn’t do it for you, you know where to find me, doll.

TRANSITION TO:

EXT. BACK ALLEYWAY. DAYTIME.

Elizabeth all but runs them out of the building, not letting Scarlet go until they’re back on the surface of the city.  The rain lightens up as she walks them around the block, back to her car.  Though upset, Elizabeth still makes sure to open the car door for Scarlet. 

Inside the car, a heavy silence sits over them, Scarlet the first to break it. 

SCARLET  
So, remind me how she’s related to you. 

ELIZABETH  
She’s technically my father’s cousin, but that uncle is the youngest of seven, making her closer to my age.  We grew up together.

SCARLET  
And when she said Darmanitan, I’m assuming she wasn’t talking about the actual pokémon? 

ELIZABETH  
No.  Darmanitan is a big, burly enforcer of hers.  Don’t call him Darmanitan to his face, though.  His name is Beau. 

SCARLET  
(amused)  
So, do you have a nickname I should know about? 

ELIZABETH  
I do, but I’m not telling you. 

Scarlet leans over the console, a grin on her painted lips. 

SCARLET  
Is it embarrassing?  Does she call you Wurmple? 

It gets a genuine laugh out of Elizabeth. 

ELIZABETH  
Not even close. 

SCARLET  
Skitty? Or do you have a name like the ones I’ve read in the paper, like Slim, or Twitchy? 

She laughs at her own jokes, and Elizabeth is just amused at this point. 

SCARLET  
(CONT’D)  
Or are you called something ironic like Tiny or Shorty? 

ELIZABETH  
Lopunny, okay?  I’m called Lopunny Liz.  Vicki likes to stick with pokémon names.  It’s dumb and I hate it, and if anyone ever dares to call me that to my face, they’re dead.

It catches Scarlet by surprise.  She leans back from the console. 

SCARLET  
Why Lopunny? 

ELIZABETH  
I’m tall, pretty, and pack a punch nobody expects me to. 

Scarlet laughs whole-heartedly, as Elizabeth finally starts the car. 

ELIZABETH  
(CONT’D)  
You’re not gonna let me live that down, are you? 

SCARLET  
What are you going to do if I don't, Lopunny?  Punish me? 

ELIZABETH  
Look, I’m just glad you didn’t start a fight with Vicki like I thought you were about to.

SCARLET  
You know…I know Vicki was blatantly flirting with me, however, I wasn’t mad about that, exactly.  I didn’t like her thinking I was yours.  I wanted her to know that _you_ are _mine_. 

ELIZABETH  
(glancing over at her)  
Dangerous thing to want to prove to a mob boss, babe.  Could stand to prove it to me one of these days, though.

FADE OUT

– – – –

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Pride Month! Enjoy a second update~ 
> 
> This chapter WAS going to be longer, but I decided I liked where this one ended. This next chapter is going to be lighthearted and fun, so I'm excited to get to writing it. Hopefully I'll be able to get it out around my normal time since it should be a short chapter. /famous last words lmao 
> 
> I'm even mORE excited for ch 8 because there's some Good stuff in that chapter :)c  
> Some things we've been. Waiting for :)c :)c 
> 
> As always, thank you for your continued support!! ;v;   
> This is, uh, probably Lame but i've started to print out the comments I get so I have something physical to look at when I'm feeling down or insecure about my writing. Y'all are the best, and I would go to war for u <3 
> 
> Feel free to come bug me on tumblr (@supercorpd), twitter (@vfw2a), or even deviantart (@operatorrhythmi) 
> 
> Content Warning for the next chapter:  
> -Alcohol


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